


Caged

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Rape, Reader-Insert, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	1. Chapter 1

“Reid, there is a possibility that Y/N isn’t the same anymore,” Hotch said sadly, placing his hand on the younger agent’s shoulder in an attempt to provide comfort in a time where there was little. 

After two years, they’d finally had a break in her case, but it was only because someone else had been taken - another 24-year-old woman, although Y/N was older now. Spencer nodded his head, the possibility of his beloved wife not being who she was slowly breaking his heart into a thousand fragile pieces. “I know,” he said softly. “I just need to know she’s alive.”

As the team approached the home of Abel Mitchell, Spencer felt fire course through his veins. The desire to pull the trigger was overwhelming, which was why he’d been relegated to the back of the entry team - having him at the front was an invitation for trouble. 

“FBI! Weapons down! Hands up!” Hotch screamed as they entered the house. Gray walls - unpainted. Dirty floors, covered with scraps of food and layers of dirt. The house probably hadn’t been cleaned in years. 

Years…

“Hey baby,” Y/N said when he picked up the phone. “I’m on my way home now.”

How had he gotten so lucky? Granted, they’d only been married for six months, but he fell more in love with her every day. “Thank god,” he replied. “It’s been a long day. Do you want to watch a movie when you get back?”

“Absolutely. With Chinese maybe? I’ll go grab food. What would you like?”

As Spencer pondered his order, tires screeched on the other side of the phone. “Ah! What are you doing? Keep your hands off me! Spencer!”

“Y/N! Y/N! What’s happening?!”

Three years since Y/N had been taken off the streets. The team had toiled day and night to try and find her, but had come up with nothing. And then Monica Shiller was taken. She looked very much like Y/N and when investigating Monica’s disappearance, they’d been told a woman fitting Y/N’s description had been seen with supposed unsub, Julian Mitchell. 

Emily and JJ audibly gasped when they came across two women chained to the walls - one of which was Monica Shiller. Immediately, she collapsed, crying because she knew she was going to be okay, while upstairs, the occupants were much better off - or worse, depending on who you asked. Hotch and Spencer rounded the corner and saw the back of a woman’s head, her hair in a ponytail and a child about two years old at her feet watching TV. “Hands up and turn around,” Hotch said.

Slowly, the woman obliged. When she turned around, Spencer nearly collapsed. “Y/N?”

“No,” she said. “My name is Rebekah.” She hadn’t even looked at Spencer yet, but as her eyes scanned the room, they fell on him and her determined and confident look slipped into the shadows as she began to cower. “Get him away from me!” Grabbing the toddler, she cradled her in her arms and ran to the corner of the room, sliding down against the wall. “Leave me alone! Leave me alone!”

Spencer’s emotions overrode his logic as he ran toward his wife - this woman who was calling herself Rebekah. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Spencer. It’s your husband.”

“You aren’t my husband!” she yelled, her voice raw with fear and eyes filled with sadness. “Abel is my husband!” Her lips quivered as she pressed a kiss the child’s head. “Abel is my husband! You hurt me! You HURT ME!”

Emily and JJ had heard the commotion and ran upstairs, watching as Spencer’s life got ripped apart. “I never hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you. I love you.”

“Abel loves me. Get him away from me!” She stood up against the wall and ran to the other end of the room. When Spencer tried to follow, Morgan appeared and grabbed him.

“Kid, Y/N is gone for now,” he whispered, tightening his grip on the young agent’s arms as he tried to pull away, his own eyes glazing over with tears. She’d made Spencer so happy; she’d become like another little sister to Morgan, and here she was cowering and afraid of the man she loved. “You have to let the professionals do their jobs. Don’t push it. You’ll push her over the edge.”

In the heat of the moment, Spencer spun around and ran out of the front door, throwing up by the side of the house at the thought of what his wife had been through. It didn’t take a genius to see she had Stockholm Syndrome. The woman he loved had been turned into someone else due to only God knows what. Morgan ran after him, but when he placed his hand on Spencer’s back, Spencer pushed him away. “Morgan, over the edge? She’s already over the edge! She’s calling herself Rebekah. You saw that little girl’s eyes. That’s her daughter. That man-” The bile rose up in his throat again, and he threw up before he could continue. “What did he do to her? What did he do to my wife?”

Spencer collapsed onto the ground and Morgan knelt down beside him. “Kid, I’m so sorry.” Just as Morgan was about to speak again, tell Spencer that all hope wasn’t lost, Abel Mitchell was marched from the home with his hands cuffed behind his back. 

Although Spencer still had his gun on him, he ignored it completely when he caught Abel’s eyes, lunging toward him and screaming. “What did you do to my wife?” Spencer screamed, his voice hoarse with rage. “What did you do, you son of a bitch?” Morgan ran to hold him back, using all his strength to keep Spencer from killing the man that held the key to Y/N’s release from her role as Rebekah. Spencer’s lips curled up into a snarl, his next words spitting out of his mouth like venom. “I will kill you.”

“Then she’ll only hate you more,” he winked, before being taken away by the cops. 

Three other officers escorted Y/N and her child into an ambulance. With no ability to take vengeance and the reluctance to approach the woman he loved for fear of breaking her mind even further apart, Spencer collapsed into the grass, vowing on everything and everyone he ever loved that he would bring his wife back to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Spencer stayed still, collapsed in the grass for what seemed like an eternity. His beloved wife had been taken away to the hospital and the subsequently to the precinct to undergo an interview. The wife he loved so much recognized him, but not in the way he wanted. “Kid?” Morgan asked. His big brother hadn’t left his side the entire time. Everyone else on the team had floated in and out of the crime scene. Some had gone to the hospital with Y/N and others had immediately headed to the local precinct. “What are you thinking, kid? Tell me. Don’t keep it in.”

Silent tears fell from his eyes as he stared off into the distance. The sun was going down and the horizon line was beautiful, tinged with pinks and purples and oranges. One would normally be in awe, but all Spencer could feel was anger. How dare the world show him such beauty when his life was crumbling all around him! “I almost wish she didn’t recognize me,” he said softly. 

Swallowing hard, Morgan closed his eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know why. The look in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at Spencer was one of innate fear, as if deep down in the marrow of her bones she was scared for her life in his presence, where three years earlier she’d have fallen asleep by his side with no hesitations, completely vulnerable, but comfortable in that vulnerability. At least, if she didn’t know who he was, he could reintroduce himself into her life, but how was he supposed to push through three years of programming - programming that had left his own wife desperately afraid of him.

Morgan pulled out his phone. It was JJ. By the look on Spencer’s face, she knew that he was frozen in place. His body had been at least, but his mind had been simultaneously numb and yet bursting with possibilities of hope that were pulverized over and over again by the terror in his beloved’s eyes. “Kid, she’s been checked out at the hospital and she’s at the station now.”

“How is she?” he asked flatly, barely making eye contact with Morgan before adding. “Physically I mean.”

“Physically, she is okay. The doctors assume that there is no need for physical violence once…”

“Once the person has accepted their fate…oh god!” As the tears streamed down his face, he fell into Morgan’s shoulder. “What am I going to do?”

“Do you love your wife?”

“Of course, I do. But that’s not her. That woman is afraid of me.”

“Then you need to bring her back to you,” Morgan said. “It’ll take time, but it can be done.” He was doing his best to put on a brave face for his kid brother, but even Morgan couldn’t be sure what was going to happen. Maybe Y/N was too far gone. “You ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

——

When Spencer and Morgan finally arrived back at the station, Y/N was already in an interrogation room, her supposed daughter in another room coloring under the watchful eye of Penelope. Hotch had asked her to watch over the child to keep Garcia calm, knowing how she tended to fall apart when their work affected one of their own. “Has anyone spoken to her yet?” Spencer asked.

“No,” Hotch replied. “Not yet. And you can’t be the one to do it.” Immediately, he placed his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, noticing the younger agent’s hesitance. “You know you can’t.” Spencer knew things were bad - not only were his insides gnawing themselves apart, but Hotch’s eyes were glazed over with tears; he was shaking himself. The last time that happened, Haley had been shot while he sat by helpless. “Who do you think should do it if not you?”

“JJ,” he said. JJ had been the closest with Y/N. “Can I stay outside the room? Observe?”

Hotch nodded. “Yes. But you cannot go inside.”

“I understand,” he spoke softly. He bit his bottom lip and approached the window. The differences between Y/N and Rebekah were startling. Y/N’s smile had been soft and easy, but Rebekah wasn’t smiling - her lips were stuck in a grimace, the thin lines chapped and nearly cracking. Her once beautiful locks were now pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. And her eyes. Her eyes had forced life in them, but behind them, they were dead. That’s what broke him. Spencer lifted his hand to his mouth to stifle a cry as JJ walked into the interrogation room and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Agent Jennifer Jareau. I’m here to ask you a couple of questions.”

Y/N extended her hand and forced a smile. “I’ll answer any questions you have, but can you please tell me how my daughter is?”

Spencer’s worst fears were confirmed; she had a child by this man. “She’s currently coloring in a room with one of our technical analysts named Penelope Garcia. She’s great with kids, so your daughter is in good hands. She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

The woman, Rebekah, Y/N - she smiled. It was the first true smile he’d seen. “Thank you,” she said. “Her name is Ilaria.”

Outside the glass window, Spencer nearly fell over into Hotch. “Does that name mean something?”

“It’s Italian,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up into the smallest of smiles. “It’s the equivalent to Hilary in English, which was derived from the Latin word hilarius, meaning cheerful. It’s the name we’d chosen if we ever had a daughter. It means she’s still in there somewhere.”


	3. Chapter 3

“And Abel is her father?” JJ questioned, trying to inject levity into the question where she knew deep down there was none. 

Y/N nodded softly, a small smile upon her face. That smile nearly broke Spencer as he stood outside and watched helplessly. “How did you meet him?”

“We met at church,” she said. Spencer’s mouth dropped. Y/N wasn’t religious at all. This was a planted story. He swallowed the bile that had formed in his throat. Only the house in which she’d lived for the past three years truly understood what had happened to Y/N to make her believe these things. He went numb as JJ and Y/N spoke - the image of his beloved wife being brutalized, forced to turn to a fabricated story for relief and survival, freezing him in place. “He approached me and said he thought I was pretty. That he didn’t normally go to church at that time so maybe God had pushed the two of us together. We fell in love quickly and had Ilaria.”

“But you’re not married?” JJ asked, trying to understand what religion if any the household subscribed to. 

Y/N shook her head and smiled. “No. Abel has many lovers because we believe that the most important thing is bringing more children into the world - bring them to God as well.” 

Spencer sunk in place, his eyes no longer peering into the window toward the woman he loved. His legs were too heavy, the myriad possibilities of what she went through weighing him down. He could hear the strain in JJ’s voice, trying so hard to choke back tears, as she continued to ask her questions. “How many lovers does Abel have? How many children?”

“He has three right now,” she said, the names of the other three women falling off her tongue, “But until you took us out of our home, we had another one joining us. But you didn’t give us a chance to get to know her.”

“Her name is Monica,” JJ said, turning her attention directly toward Y/N and looking into her eyes as much as Y/N would allow. “And she didn’t go willingly. She was taken off the streets by Abel and one of the other women…just like you were.”

Spencer pulled himself to see if Y/N was in there at all, but she didn’t seem to be. He swallowed a sob while Hotch patted him on the back.

Y/N’s head snapped up toward JJ’s. “I just told you, we met in church. Abel loves me.” The force with which she believed her own words was causing her lips to quiver, the tears behind her eyes to release themselves with or without the help of her own body. “He loves us. You’re trying to turn me against. He said that you’d do that.”

Spencer turned around, ready to walk out of the room. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand here and listen to this. “Hotch, what am I going to do? She thinks he loves her. He got her pregnant. He told her to fear me, and he prepared her for law enforcement. How am I supposed to get her back?” The heated tears flowed freely, his hands over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise.

“It’s not going to be easy,” Hotch replied, “But people have come back from this before - Jaycee Lee Dugard, Elizabeth Smart. It sounds like Y/N has Stockholm syndrome too. The good thing is that we have Abel Mitchell for two counts of murder. He is not getting out, which means she’s free of him and can start to heal.”

Running his hands through his hair, he said nothing to Hotch and returned to the window. “Do you know what Abel did?” JJ asked, her voice moving from soft to stern, her eyes harder than before. “Do you remember these two women?” She pulled out two photos - one of a late-20s brunette with wavy hair down to her shoulders and a beautiful heart-shaped face, the other of another late-20s woman, this one with blond hair and blue eyes. Next to the pictures of the two beauties lay pictures of them on slabs, devoid of color, their skin pale and sunken, the life in their eyes snuffed out. 

“That’s Eva and Bethany,” Y/N said, recognition flashing followed by a hint of fear. “What happened to them?”

“They were murdered. Neither of them could have children. They both miscarried twice and Abel killed them.” JJ was desperate to break through even just a little bit. She was Spencer’s wife, but she’d also been her friend. Seeing her like this, having to talk to her like this was making her heart ache. 

“No!” Y/N screamed, getting up from the chair and hitting it back into the table. “No! He wouldn’t do that! Abel is a good man! You’re trying to frame him!”

JJ got up as well and glanced back toward where she knew Spencer was standing, her look conveying what she was feeling when her words could not. “We aren’t, Y/N,” JJ said. “We have proof. Abel’s DNA is underneath their fingernails. His prints are on their necks.” She placed her own hands around her neck. Something about that motion pushed Y/N over the brink.

“No! No! No! No! My name is Rebekah!” Over and over again, she smacked at her head to the point where JJ, Morgan and Hotch had to hold her arms to keep her from hurting herself further. “Abel wouldn’t do that! He loves me! He loves me! He loves me! Let go of me! Get your hands off me! I want to see Abel! Where is Abel?” 

The screeching that came out of her mouth could be heard throughout the entire bullpen. She screamed his name repeatedly until she couldn’t anymore, until Spencer was certain she’d torn at her vocal chords. “I’m going to bring you back to me, I swear,” he said out loud to himself. “I promise.”

With the palms of his hands, Spencer wiped away his tears and turned from the window, unable to see her screaming and crying and pleading to see the man that took her away from him over and over again - the man who likely beat and raped her day in and day out until she turned to this fabricated story to survive with some semblance of sanity intact. Instead, he walked with purpose, the people before him parting like the Red Sea as he stormed across the bullpen to the room Abel was being kept in. 

Spencer couldn’t talk to his wife for fear of breaking her further, but he would be damned if he wasn’t going to interrogate this bastard. Rossi realized where he was going and followed him. “Kid, I’m coming in with you. You can’t go in alone.”

“Fine,” he said hotly, his eyes never breaking their gaze from the door that shielded him from the man who’d taken his wife away. “But I’m going in.”

As he pulled open the door and walked inside, a skin-crawling grin was painted across his face. “She’s asking for me, huh? How does that feel, Agent?”


	4. Chapter 4

Spencer’s blood turned to fire in his veins as the unsub smirked at him and his wife’s screeching voice still hung inside the concrete walls of the Bureau. If he listened to her any longer, he’d lose his resolve and return to her. He couldn’t help her though. Not right now. She was in the best hands she could be at the moment, so he shut the door behind him and Rossi, and sat across from Abel Mitchell. He didn’t even want to name him; that gave him too much power. Coward is how he’d refer to him now. “You are going away forever,” Spencer spat. “At the very least, if you don’t get lethal injection, which frankly, I would prefer. Tell me everything. Give me a full confession, and I will tell the courts you cooperated. That way you can live out your miserable and deluded life behind bars.”

The coward smiled – a genuine smile that sent shivers down his spine, but he refused to let him see. Spencer refused to let the coward see that he was getting to him. Rossi however made no such promises to himself. “Something funny to you?”

“Funny?” The coward said without missing a beat. “Not funny, per se, but I can still hear the mother of one of my children screaming for me, and it’s making your friend here uncomfortable. That gives me joy – at least the degree of joy that a man like me can feel.”

Y/N’s screeching had died down. Spencer wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing. He couldn’t hear her scream, but now he could hear the sound of blood pounding in his head. “Tell me everything,” he said. “Or you will be headed toward a needle. We have your fingerprints on Natalie Jenkins’s and Elena Perry’s necks. We have your DNA under their nails. You are going away. And if you don’t tell me everything, you are going to die. I will not repeat myself.” The coward seemed to smirk at Spencer’s bravado, but he refused to back down.

“You want me to tell you everything?” He asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer’s gaze didn’t budge. He only nodded imperceptibly and waited for the coward to confess his crimes. “Where should I start? The very beginning? Should I start with my Eva and Bethany? The women that came before them? Or maybe I should start with my beauty, Rebekah.”

Spencer lunged across the table and grabbed Abel by the collar, bringing his head down and in contact with the metal. The only thing that kept him from doing it again was the fact he wanted answers. Killing him would be too easy on him. Spencer had never been one for violence if he could avoid it, but every fiber in his body was telling him to choke the very last breath from this coward’s lungs. “I’m done talking. I told you I wouldn’t repeat myself.” He got up from the table, followed by Rossi and headed toward the door, his footsteps resounding dully throughout the small room.

“I never said I wouldn’t tell you, Agent. So quick tempered, kind of like how Rebekah was before she came to me, but she changed…in time. Sit. And I’ll tell you how I did it. With her and with so many others.”

Spencer’s heart beat frantically in his chest. He wanted to walk out and close the door more than anything, but the look in Rossi’s eyes pleaded for him to stay. Though they had forensic evidence, a confession was always preferable, so he swallowed his pride, choked back the bile in his throat, and turned around to face the coward again. Bullies had always won out in Spencer’s life; he’d been the one cowering in the corner.. But not today.

—

Across the bullpen, Y/N had finally stopped screaming for Abel, more because her throat was raw than anything else. “Abel didn’t do this,” she said to JJ, glancing between her, Morgan and Hotch, desperately hoping that they’d made a mistake. “He couldn’t have done this. Abel’s a good man.”

“He’s not, Y/N,” Morgan said before getting cut off.

“My name is Rebekah,” she said hotly.

Morgan lifted his hands and quieted her. “Okay, Rebekah,” he said, the name feeling foreign on his tongue. He didn’t like using the name, but they needed to get through to her regarding Abel. Then they might be able to bring her back to Spencer. “Rebekah. I understand what he’s told you, but we have proof that he’s a liar. In your own backyard and throughout the city bodies have been found that prove Abel Mitchell is a murderer.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” she replied, the strength in her voice and beliefs fading.

Morgan sat down across from her, his voice as quiet as a mouse. “You know these two women as Eva and Bethany,” he said, placing the pictures in front of her again. “Eva’s real name was Natalie Jenkins, and Bethany’s named was Elena Perry. Both of them were taken by Abel five years ago. He hurt them, over and over again, in any way he could think of until they were so scared, they turned to the identities he gave them – Eva and Bethany – in order to survive. He raped them both. They got pregnant and miscarried. Both of them. Both times. And when he realized they couldn’t give him children, he killed them and dumped their bodies like garbage. The children they carried are buried in your backyard.” Gently, Morgan shuffled papers around and placed various reports in front of Y/N. “This is Abel’s DNA and it was found under their nails. He choked them to death. The only reason you are alive is because you were able to have a child. The same goes for the other two women in the household, Mary and Catherine. Mary has two children and Catherine is pregnant. His only goal is to have children and bring them to God, or so he claims, but this isn’t God, Rebekah. This is not okay. Here, look at the papers all you want. You’ll see that he’s been lying to you.”

With shaking hands, she reached out and grabbed the papers, filing through them, her eyes scanning the documents swiftly but completely. At first, she was mouthing to herself – silently pleading to herself that what she was seeing was wrong, but it wasn’t and she could see it plainly on the papers and in the photos. As she looked at the two women she knew briefly, she saw an imprint on their necks that proved to her that it had been Abel – a small cross surrounded by stars – the symbol pushed into their skin by the strength of his hand. “No, this can’t be true,” she cried. “That’s Eva and Bethany. They can’t be Natalie and Elena. They can’t be because that would mean I’m not Rebekah. I’m Rebekah. I am Rebekah. I am Rebekah.” She muttered to herself over and over again, her eyes darting back and forth in an attempt to find something real. She looked up at JJ and for a second JJ could’ve sworn she saw a flash of recognition. “Agent, if I’m not Rebekah, then who am I? Who am I?” She yelled it the last time, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as she shivered.

Immediately, JJ bent down to meet her gaze. “You are Ilaria’s mother. We are going to help you. We’re going to find people who can help you remember who you were, but you need to hold on to that. You are that little girl’s mother, and you have to stay strong. For her.” 

The flood of tears stopped instantly. “The father of my child is a murderer,” she said softly. “The father of my child is a murderer. I need to see him. I need him to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. I need to hear it from him.”

JJ looked back toward Hotch and he gave her a nod. “Come with us. We’ll take you to him.”


	5. Chapter 5

JJ and Hotch escorted Y/N across the bullpen, passed desks and stunned agents – agents who couldn’t believe their colleagues long-lost wife was in their midst, to where said colleague had been interrogating Abel. Morgan walked ahead to warn Reid that she was coming and to be out of the room. They were so close to nailing Abel to wall indefinitely, and if she saw Spencer and panicked again, they could lose that ability.

Unfortunately, Spencer came out of the room just as Y/N was walking in and when her gaze met his, she flinched and stepped back two paces. He watched as her hands started to shake; his wife was scared, and he desperately wanted to reach out and grab her hands – to let her know it was going to be okay, but he refrained himself and swallowed back tears. “My dear, Rebekah,” he said as she walked into the room. Spencer watched from behind glass as the coward walked up to her, but to his surprise and Spencer’s muted joy, she stepped back from him.

“Don’t touch me,” she said firmly. She couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. Her body began to shake as she looked up defiantly. “You killed Eva and Bethany? Why?”

Abel stepped back, disappointed in her. “I told you they would try to lie to you, Rebekah. They don’t approve of our life and our religion so they are trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“They showed me pictures of Eva and Bethany and what they looked like before I knew them. They said their names were Natalie and Elena. The papers say your DNA is under their fingernails and your prints are on their throats. Why would you do that? Abel, look at me and tell me they’re wrong!” The last words were scratched out; she couldn’t yell anymore. Her throat was too raw and tired from crying and wondering who she was. Was she truly Rebekah? Or was she someone else? The thought that this body she inhabited was a false one terrified her to her very core.

For a moment, a look lingered between the two, but a master psychopath like Abel knew when he had been outfoxed. He could see in her eyes that he lost her, and he knew he was in deep anyway. They did have his DNA, so he wasn’t getting out of this. “Be fruitful and multiply. You remember where that’s from, right?”

“Genesis 1:28,” she said shakily.

Abel smiled wide and sat back down, looking straight up at the mother of one of his children. “Eva and Bethany couldn’t do what God wanted. They were both blessed by God twice over and they lost God’s little children. Their wombs were cursed. It would have kept happening, so I started over with you, Mary and Catherine, and all three of you gave me beautiful children.”

Y/N inhaled hard and choked out a sob. “You killed them because they couldn’t give you children? What if I hadn’t been able to have children? Would you have killed me too? Abel…you said you loved me.”

Abel snickered. “Ask your new friends here,” he said. “A man like me can’t love anyone.”

“Ilaria,” she whispered. “We have a baby. You said you loved us. You said you loved us!” She stumbled backward and into the wall, her hand covering her mouth as she stared at him in horror. “What did you do to me?” She slid down the wall as she clutched at her body, her hands skimming over her arms and legs and landing on her stomach. “Ilaria was born out of love,” she cried out. “She can’t have come from anything else. She can’t. She just can’t!” Her eyes darted upward toward JJ and Hotch, who couldn’t quite give her the answers she craved. “Oh my god.” Her whisper rang loudly in Spencer’s ears. “I need to see my baby.”

“We can bring you to her,” JJ said, giving her the best comforting smile she could muster.

Abel smirked as she started to leave the room. “Get your fill of her now, because I’ll be fighting these charges, and suing for custody of all my children.”

In an instant, Y/N turned around and glanced at Hotch and Morgan. “He can’t do that, can he?” The goosebumps that pricked at her skin nearly overtook her and brought her to the floor. “He can’t take my baby from me, right?”

Hotch ushered her out of the room as Abel laughed. “Listen, Y/N…Rebekah, we are going to do everything we can to have his case tried where you were taken from, which was DC, and not where you lived in Maryland, but there are no guarantees.”

“What does that mean?” she cried out, scanning the hallways for the room that held her beloved Ilaria.

Morgan stepped forward and spoke softly. “In DC, there are laws that block people like him from their children if there is a conviction, but Maryland doesn’t have those laws.”

Every fiber of her body was shaking. Spencer couldn’t help himself anymore and stepped forward. When she met his gaze, she flinched again, but she attempted to look back up at him. “Abel said you hurt me,” she said.

Spencer shook his head. “I never hurt you…Rebekah. I would never hurt you. I know you don’t understand what’s going on right now, but you could tell that Abel was lying to you before. You could read it in his face, right?” When he stepped forward, she moved backward again. Something told her that everything Abel told her was a lie, and that she knew this man, but she couldn’t help the fear set deep in her bones. “Well, then can you look at my face for a moment? Can you read me?”

Y/N looked up at him and held his gaze. Deep down he could see that she was frightened, but he prayed that the woman he loved was still in there and that he could get her back. He would do anything – no matter how long it took. “I will not let that man touch your baby. I promise.” A tear fell from his eye onto the cardigan he was wearing; he didn’t even realize it was one she’d bought for him three and a half years earlier. “Even if you never remember me, I promise I will not let him take your child away from you. Did I lie to you?”

“No,” she whispered quietly. Being a mixture of frightened and panicked and forlorn and a million other emotions was too much to bear. She started to sob and pulled her gaze from Spencer’s, following JJ toward Penelope’s office where Ilaria was being watched.

When she left, Spencer collapsed against the wall outside the interrogation room – completely and totally spent from the day’s events and petrified that the woman he loved was lost to him forever. He was well aware of the laws, but if there was any oxygen in his lungs or any strength in his body, he would make sure Ilaria went home with Y/N, whether or not Y/N came back to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Honestly, Spencer still felt like he was collapsed against the wall, watching as his wife walked out afraid as his existence, with a child bearing the name they both adored. But Ilaria couldn’t be his as much as he wanted her to be; she was 2.5 years old and Y/N had been gone for three years. 

This little girl, whom he already loved with all his heart, would have to grow up either with her father, which Spencer thought unbelievable. How the fuck could the world possibly grant custody to a rapist? Or she would grow up and realize that she wasn’t conceived out of love, but out of delusion and fear. A beautiful, little child like that didn’t deserve to have the weight of the world on her shoulders at the age of two and a half.

All week long, he’d thought about nothing but his wife and her child. He’d promised his wife he wouldn’t let Abel separate them, and he intended to keep that promise.

The team had spent the entire week seeking out a lawyer in the area that could represent her. Spencer promised he’d sell their home if it meant paying for a good enough lawyer to keep Y/N and Ilaria together. Finally, they found her – Nikita Costas, known all over the country as the best lawyer to call in cases like this. She hadn’t lost a case against a rapist in regards to child custody yet. She was Y/N’s last chance.

“We have her number for you, Spence,” JJ said, hand her friend the slip of paper with Nikita’s number on it. “Just give them Hotch’s name and you’ll be able to talk to her personally and immediately.”

He would’ve called yesterday if he could, so he dismissed himself and walked outside the Bureau to call her. “Hello, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling to talk to Nikita Costas. Aaron Hotchner of the FBI said I should call.”

While he was on hold, a whole host of thoughts went through his mind. Best case scenario was that Y/N kept sole custody of Ilaria and she got the medical attention she needed – in that case, she might be able to come back to him. But if this woman lost, then Ilaria would be handed over to her mother’s rapist and batterer. He couldn’t allow those kinds of thoughts to pervade his mind or he’d never stay strong enough to help Y/N; they both needed him at his best.

“Hello, this is Nikita Costas. Is this Doctor Spencer Reid?”

The conversation between the two lasted nearly two hours. He told her everything he knew about what happened between Abel and Y/N – at least what they were already legally able to prove. The circumstances of Y/N’s case were more severe than Nikita had ever dealt with, but she seemed eager to take on the case. “I’ll take this case pro bono,” she said.

“Why would you do that?” He asked, grateful, but taken aback by the gesture.

“One, your wife’s story got to me. I heard about you when she was taken a few years ago, and I never imagined this was where she’d end up, but that being said, this case is going to garner a lot of publicity, which gives me exposure and also puts pressure on me, because if I screw up, that puts my career on the line as well as the lives of your wife and her daughter. The whole situation will force me to be at my absolute best.”

Spencer appreciated her honesty and after another couple of questions, they set up a time for Nikita to meet up with Y/N, who was currently meeting with a psychologist in an attempt to start her healing process. “I’m warning you, Dr. Reid,” Ms. Costas said as they wound down their conversation. “This is not going to be an easy case. His lawyer is going to try and discredit her at every turn, and they are going to try and use her belief that she is Rebekah to prove that she isn’t stable enough to take of her child. Beside myself, this all rests on the psychologist and her ability to help Y/N remember what happened. And if she does, that’s a whole other set of challenges, because I imagine what she underwent was particularly unpleasant. This will be difficult, but I promise I’ll do what I can to ensure Ilaria stays with her mother.”

Spencer swallowed hard as the tears welled at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, Ms. Costas.”

As he hung up the phone, Spencer took a deep breath and turned back to walk into the Bureau. On the one hand, if she didn’t remember who she was, the coward’s lawyers were going to use that as an excuse to discredit her sanity, but if she did remember, then she would have to recount for his lawyers and the jury every horrid detail of what he did to her. In the immediate future, she couldn’t win either way, but if she could recover her memory, she would be able to be a mother to Ilaria until the day she died.

—

Rebekah, or Y/N as she was apparently called, was petrified as she sat in the office waiting for the psychologist. Apparently today’s appointment with Dr. Madeline Wasser was purely to officially diagnose Stockholm Syndrome, which the police claimed was what she had. She knew what it was, but Abel wasn’t her captor, right? She’d met him at church. They’d fallen in love; it was just that she fell in love with a man she apparently didn’t know. She couldn’t have gone through all the things that police claimed. Could she?

“Hello,” Dr. Wasser said as she walked in and shook Y/N’s hand. “Today is purely going to be asking you some questions about Abel. Nothing intrusive right now, so you can relax.”

Y/N wasn’t so sure about that; she was pretty positive that she wasn’t going to be able to relax until Ilaria was in her arms for good and forever. “I’ll try,” she said shakily. She didn’t want to take about Abel. He’d killed people; she still couldn’t believe it.

“Tell me about Abel,” she said, leaning back into the chair. “How did you meet? How do you feel about him? I don’t want to hear what the police have told you yet. I want to know how you feel deep down.”

A small smile crept across her face as she remembered that day in church. “I was sitting in the front of our church. He was in the back, and after service, he approached me. He told me all about himself and said that wasn’t the time he normally went to church, so God had to have something planned for us. He was smooth and charming, and I went out with him the next day. After that, we fell in love quickly.” But did they? She didn’t know anything anymore.

After Y/N recounted her story, Dr. Wasser pulled out some pictures and placed them across the table. The pictures were of the agents that came into her home. “That’s Agent Jareau, Agent Morgan, Agent Hotchner, Agent Rossi, Agent Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, she was the one watching Ilaria, and Dr. Reid.”

“Do you know any of these people?” she asked. “I mean, do you remember knowing them before Ilaria was born?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, but I have an uneasy feeling when I see his picture, and I don’t know why.” She was pointing to the picture of Spencer. “It’s like I’m afraid of him, but I don’t really understand why I would be, because I don’t know him…do I?”

Dr. Wasser immediately changed the subject, asking Y/N all about her pregnancy, the other women that Abel lived with and fathered children with, and whether or not she introduced any of those women to Abel. There was no doubt in the good doctor’s mind that Rebekah, or Y/N, had Stockholm Syndrome; she exhibited basically all the symptoms. She would absolutely need treatment, but they couldn’t launch into it immediately. It would actually be worse to move into treatment right away, because the pain was too fresh. “Dr. Wasser,” she asked, eliciting a look of knowing concern from the psychologist. “You wouldn’t answer me before when I asked. Do I know that man? Spencer Reid?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “He’s your husband.”


	7. Chapter 7

After learning the man she feared was her actual, lawful husband, Y/N had a meltdown, begging that Dr. Wasser tell her more about her old life, a life she couldn’t recall - but the Doctor wouldn’t do it. Y/N had begged and pleaded and cried for her to tell her more, to give her some semblance of reality in the horror that had become her life, but Dr. Wasser insisted, informing her that telling her everything would do more harm than good, and in the case of a trial, she had to come some conclusions herself or it would be considered leading a witness. 

“We have to take this slowly,” she’d said. “You need time to process the information you’ve already gotten. The wounds you have are too fresh. Telling you anything else right now, or even working to try and make you better would be like adding an infection to your open wound.” But Y/N didn’t want to hear that; she wanted to know who she was. Was she Rebekah, the woman Abel had met in church, fallen in love with and fathered a child? Or was she Y/N, married to the man she couldn’t look at without glancing down under half-lidded eyes? Or was she someone else entirely? Floating in this limbo of uncertainty was the worst thing she could ever possibly imagine.

As she returned home to the state-run apartment complex she’d been put up in while this case got sorted out, she stared at the little girl in her arms. Ilaria was her certainty; even if she was nobody, Ilaria was her daughter, of that much she was sure. “You okay, Mama?” she asked sweetly, playing with a leaf that Y/N had picked up off the ground for her. “You look sad.”

Kids could always see through the horror to the truth underneath. “Mama is confused.”

“Why? Does it have to do with Papa?”

Hearing her precious child call Abel Papa hurt so much; her heart clenched. Just days earlier, Y/N had been in love with him - mother and father to a beautiful baby girl, but now he was the monster that invaded her dreams. He’d killed people. Maybe he’d even hurt her and that’s how Ilaria had been born. The possibilities were endless, and she had no idea where to start herself, so how was she supposed to explain it to a two and a half year old. “Yes, baby. It has to do with him. I found out that Papa is a bad man.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“I think so,” she said softly, pointing to her head, “But I don’t know everything yet. My brain won’t let me remember.”

At first, Y/N thought that Abel’s true self would surprise or upset her daughter, but she just looked down at her mother’s chest and then hugged her. “I saw Papa yelling at Mama Catherine. Has he yelled at you?”

“I can’t remember, sweetheart. But I promise you that no matter what, I love you more than anything else in the world, and I will never let anyone hurt you, okay?”

The beautiful wide-eyed child stared up at her through slight tears. “I know. I love you too, Mama. Is the lady with the pretty dress going to help you get better?”

Y/N tried to figure out who she was talking about, and then it clicked. “Penelope Garcia? Yes, she’s one of them.” She thought back to the man who was apparently her husband, the one she was scared of, telling her that he’d never let anyone take her child away; she’d believed him, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to remember him, and she wanted to. She wanted, no needed, to know who she was. “There will be a lot of people helping me. Dr. Wasser is one of them. That’s who I just went to see. Ms. Costas, my lawyer, is another one, and the people at the police department too.”

“What about Spencer? The tall man with brown hair?” She asked, the smile evident in her eyes, as well as her face.

“What makes you ask about Spencer?” Y/N noticed the familiarity of the name on her tongue, giving credence to the fact that she knew him at one point, but when the name fell from her lips, a picture of him popped into her mind and made her flinch. 

Ilaria ran across the room once she’d been set down in the apartment and grabbed the elephant toy she’d had the night they first walked into the BAU. “Spencer said that he knew you. That you were the prettiest woman he’d ever met and he wanted to help you. I could tell he was telling the truth. Spencer is a nice man, not like Papa.”

If Ilaria trusted him, maybe Y/N could one day too?

—–

Nearly a month passed with Y/N and Ilaria getting used to a daily routine. Apparently, Y/N’s living situation had been taken care of for the foreseeable future, but she wasn’t sure by who or how. All she cared about was making sure her daughter was safe and happy.

When she wasn’t taking care of Ilaria, she was learning to take care of herself, meeting with Dr. Wasser a couple times a week, and occasionally meeting with her lawyer as well. “How are you dealing with what Abel has done?” Dr. Wasser asked.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she took a deep breath and steadied her voice. “It still feels foreign. Like I can’t believe it. But I’m not in denial about it.”

“That’s good,” she replied. “How do you feel about trying to uncover what happened to you?”

Y/N shuffled in her seat uncomfortably. “I’m scared, but I need to know. For myself and my daughter.”

“Well, we’d be using a combination of EMDR, or eye movement desensitization and reprocessing and general therapy. That combined with the love of your friends will hopefully help you to heal over time.”

“Will I be able to remember my husband? You said I was married to Spencer. That I still am. I want to remember. I don’t want to be afraid of him.”

Dr. Wasser smiled softly; even that was a step in the right direction. “In time, yes. You are more willing to work and help yourself in the healing process. That puts you in a better position than many others. We’ll start next time we see each other, okay?”

“Thank you, Dr. Wasser.”

With that, she left, picking up Ilaria from the desk outside where she’d been staying with the receptionist. The next stop was meeting with the lawyer. Abel was taking forever finding the perfect lawyer, but Ms. Costas had convinced her that that was better, because that gave her more time to prepare. “Hello Ms. Costas,” Y/N said, giving Ilaria a kiss on the head, telling her to say hello. 

“Hi, Ms. Costas!” Again, Ilaria stayed outside with the lawyer’s assistant, leaving Y/N and her lawyer to discuss what they needed to discuss without fear of scarring the toddler.

As the lawyer sat down, Y/N could feel a sense of dread about her. Difficult as this had all been so far, it was about to get even worse. “Okay, Y/N, we are getting closer to going to trial. Abel has picked his lawyer - Grant Matherson. He’s one of the best in his field, but I’ve gone up against him before and won. But I do need to prepare you. When it comes to cross-examination, he is going to try and discredit you at every turn. He’s going to bring up your sexual past. If you can’t remember, he’d going to use that as a way to try and discredit your ability to take care of Ilaria. When we get a little bit closer, hopefully you’ll have pieced some things together, and I will prepare you for the line of questioning you’ll undergo. It won’t be easy.”

“I know,” she replied, fidgeting her fingers at the table. “But I need to protect my daughter. She’s all that matters to me right now.”

Nikita seemed to be satisfied with that, telling Y/N to focus on her daughter while she focused on the rest of it. “Ms. Costas, I know we’ve met a few times now, but I still don’t know how I’m paying for this.”

“I took this case pro-bono,” she said. “Someone sought me out. I’m also confident that I can win this case, so that also contributed to my taking on the case.”

“Who sought you out?”

“Spencer Reid.”

“My husband?” That word still felt foreign on her lips. The more she heard and said his name, the more she realized she knew him, but she still couldn’t recall their relationship. 

Nikita’s normally hard eyes softened as she recalled the phone call she’d had with her client’s lawful husband. “Yes, he called me because he knows my track record. He said he’d sell whatever he needed to sell and do whatever he needed to do to pay me, but I told him I would take it pro-bono, so if you’re able to talk to him again soon, you can thank him. I’m really rooting for you.”

Y/N gave her a wordless thank you and returned outside to grab Ilaria and go home. She didn’t even notice she’d been crying until her daughter pointed it out. “Are these happy tears, Mama? They look different.”

“Well, I’m still a little uncomfortable around Spencer, but I think you might be right about him.”

“Yea?” She looked happy to hear her mother say as much. Spencer and Penelope were Ilaria’s favorite people at the BAU. 

Y/N nuzzled her daughter’s forehead as they walked back toward the apartment. She had a hell of a fight ahead of her, but the little girl in her arms was all she needed to keep her determined. Over her dead body would she allow Abel to lay his hands on her. “Yea, baby. Apparently, Spencer is the one who got me a lawyer.”

“The lawyer that’s helping you? Ms. Nikita?” When Y/N nodded, Ilaria smiled wide. “I told you he was a good person, Mama.”


	8. Chapter 8

While Ms. Costas worked to gather every bit of evidence she could on Y/N’s past as Y/N, and as Rebekah (with help from the BAU), Y/N began picking up on her general therapy, adding an appointment or so a week, and today she would start EMDR, after completing the first two phases of the treatment that didn’t require the use of the machine. 

With Ilaria approaching three years old, she was still to young to start school, but she couldn’t be around her mother while she tried to find out what happened to her. For weeks, she had struggled with what she was going to do, but then Agent Rossi had reached out to her, suggesting a day care center nearby. It was insanely expensive, but he had told her that if she felt comfortable leaving Ilaria there, he would pay for it. Reluctantly, she’d taken him up on the offer. The first time she left Ilaria, she bawled her eyes out, but once she picked Ilaria up and learned how much she loved interacting with the other children, Y/N felt infinitely better.

“Hello, Y/N,” Dr. Wasser said as she walked into the office that day. Though her life had been turned upside down, Y/N found herself feeling more and more comfortable with her surroundings; the apartment she lived in was barren, but it felt cozy. Ms. Costas’ office and Dr. Wasser’s office were also starting to become comfortable places to be. In their previous therapy sessions, she had started remembering that her name was Y/N. Her mother died of late-stage uterine cancer, and her father had died of a freak heart attack; members of the BAU verified both deaths. She had no siblings and had been on her own for quite a while before meeting Spencer. However, their wedding day was as far as she had been able to get in remembering her past. The lace wedding dress hung limply off her shoulders; she’d been smiling wide. Spencer had been crying. And though she had no family there, she had felt love, and since recalling their wedding, Y/N had begun talking to him again. Most of the time, it was with someone else in the room because she still wasn’t completely comfortable around him yet. And worse yet, though she knew what he did, she was still in love with Abel. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yes,” she said, sitting down in front of Dr. Wasser’s chair. “I’m a little scared, but I’m ready.”

“It makes sense that you’re scared.” Dr. Wasser shot her a pitiful look as she sat down across from her patient – arguably one of the most difficult she’d ever worked with. “We’re going to put you at ease first. I’d like you to close your eyes and start with the mindful breathing we talked about.” 

Y/N did as she was told, tuning the rest of the world out as she closed her eyes and took deep breaths in, holding them just slightly until she fully let them out again. If someone had asked, she would’ve said she didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, but eventually Dr. Wasser’s voice came to the forefront again.

“After I provide you with the stimuli, the hand movements, I’m going to be asking you what you are noticing now,” she said softly. Y/N sank into the chair, soothed by the sound of her doctor’s voice. “That’s meant to be very open-ended. You can tell me a feeling, a sensation, an image. When I ask you that question, I just want you to tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.”

First, she tested Y/N for the distance and speed at which her fingers moved, with the Doctor deciding that moving her fingers in a diagonal pattern at a small to medium speed seemed to work best. “You can close your eyes or keep them open until I ask you to follow my fingers.” As Dr. Wasser talked her through the first few steps of the exercise, she found her breathing steady, the fear of what was to come fading into the background. A few times, she asked Y/N what she was noticing - her heartbeat, a musty smell, a picture of Ilaria. Doctor and patient moved through the second phase of the treatment, finding a comfortable color for her to focus on in the case that she needed to be calmed down, a gesture that would indicate that she needed to stop the session, and finally some additional test sets for the finger movements Dr. Wasser would be using when it came to the traumatic memory, which in this case would be giving birth to Ilaria – it had been difficult, and she remembered it vividly, just not the circumstances surrounding it.

“Now, Ilaria’s birth is what we’re focusing on. Is there an image that comes to mind that indicates what the worst part about that was?” 

Y/N sat thoughtfully for a moment, sinking into the red fabric of the comfortable couch, when a picture of Ilaria looking sad popped into her mind. “I was only with Mary and Catherine; the other two mothers. Abel wasn’t there.” That had been something she’d only remembered recently.

“Okay, what is a negative connotation you associate with that image?”

“I am alone.”

Dr. Wasser shook her head, presumably expecting a similar answer. “And what is a positive connotation you’d like to connect with that?” 

“I am in control.”

“Now on a scale of one to seven, one being completely false and seven being completely true, how does the phrase ‘I am in control’ resonate with you on the gut level.”

“One,” she replied truthfully. Dr. Wasser started to ask her about the emotions she was feeling when she contemplated giving birth alone with two women she barely knew; this was what she had been afraid of – one of the things, so she answered candidly. “Petrified is the overwhelming emotion.”

“Now on a scale of one to ten, where one is no distress and ten is the worst you can imagine, where are you when you think about that image and that negative connotation? I am alone.”

“Nine.” Her heartbeat had picked up pace, and the uncertainty of what she was going to uncover loomed large in her mind, almost to the point of not wanting to move forward at all. But she needed this. Both for herself and for her daughter – the one positive thing she had in life. When her doctor asked her how her body was reacting, Y/N could barely contain herself. “My breathing is shallow. I’m shaky. My shoulders are tense.”

Each phase of the treatment made her feel worse and worse, but she pushed forward and eventually she found herself crying, holding back screams as she felt a burning between her legs - the pressure of Ilaria coming out nearly tearing her to shreds. As she paid attention to the fingers crossing in front of her, the burning sensation increased, as did the severity of her tears. “Go with that,” she heard Dr. Wasser say.

“He yelled at me.” Abel had told her to keep it down…that there was no need for such screaming. Fingers continued to flutter, and she watched. She watched as Ilaria’s birth played out before her eyes. Screaming, crying, bleeding, begging to be taken to a hospital. She had been told no and didn’t know why. When Ilaria was finally out, she felt scared.

“Now what do you notice?”

“I’m scared. I have to protect my baby.”

“Go with that,” she said again.

Cries. 

They were Ilaria’s. 

Screams, too.

Heavy steps down wooden stairs. 

Emptiness. Her arms were empty.

Abel had taken Ilaria out of her arms moments after she’d been born.

In a panic, Y/N put up her hand, which was the agreed upon signal that they needed to stop. “I have to stop. I’m sorry,” she cried, the tears falling from her eyes with no help save for gravity. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Wasser replied, bringing her back down to a calm state within the next few minutes. 

Y/N stood up and paced the room, desperate to try again, but also too afraid to do so. “I don’t think I can do any more today.”

Dr. Wasser stood up and placed her hand on her shoulder. “That’s okay. We’ll try again another day.”

“Is it possible that I’ll remember things on my own? Without this?” Y/N asked hopefully. She wanted to know more.

The doctor smiled hopefully, sitting back on her desk. “Absolutely. The likelihood that Ilaria’s birth was what made you repress your memories is very strong. And now that she is safe, that might allow your brain to feel like it’s okay to uncover them. Just whatever you do, don’t force them.”

Y/N and the doctor exchanged a few more pleasantries before Y/N returned to the bus stop to go pick up Ilaria.

Ilaria. Her baby girl.

In the weeks since Abel’s capture, Y/N had started to remember Spencer piece by piece – their wedding being as far as she could remember, but suddenly an image popped into her head; it was a very vivid image. Y/N was lying on a comfortable tan couch with her head in Spencer’s lap. He was combing his fingers through her hair, his own coming down just above his shoulders. And they were talking. ‘I like Ilaria for a girl.’ Spencer smiled down at you. ‘Then Ilaria it is.’

They’d picked out the name Ilaria together. Maybe that meant that Spencer had still been on her mind even after she’d had her daughter.

Though being in close proximity to Spencer was still uncomfortable on their own, she had exchanged numbers with the members of the BAU. Every so often, or maybe a little more so than every so often, they’d check in on her, so she pulled out her phone and texted Spencer.

Y/N: Did we pick the name Ilaria together?

Spencer replied minutes later. It’s as if he’d been waiting with bated breath for her to remember that.  
S: Yes. Did you just remember that? That’s good, right?

Y/N: I guess so, but there’s so much more I don’t know. And I’m scared. I want to remember my life.

S: I know you do. There’s a distinct possibility you will remember eventually. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way.

Somehow that put her at ease, but she assumed there was a likelihood that they would never be as they were again.

Y/N: Spencer…you know that our relationship may never be what it was, right? I can’t even remember our marriage.

S: I know.

She could practically hear the sadness in his voice.

S: I don’t expect anything, but as long as we can be in the same room together again, my hope is that I can court you all over again, and maybe we can start over.

Y/N did too. She knew something had been there – something bordering on happiness.

Y/N: I hope we can. At the very least, I can say that what I do remember of us was exceedingly happy.


	9. Chapter 9

Weeks went by with Abel’s lawyers stalling for time. Ms. Costas claimed that it was because they were trying to put together everything they possibly could to win their case, but Y/N wasn’t so sure. Considering the deception that Abel was capable of, she wouldn’t have put it past him to be stalling things purely to throw her off guard - have her at her worst so she would lose custody of Ilaria. At this point, she put nothing past him. 

But she wasn’t going to let that happen. While they stalled for time or some other purpose, she was healing herself as best she could while still taking care of the little girl she would’ve given the world for, going to therapy three times a week. She’d had several breakthroughs, but nearly all of them had come about outside the office and the EMDR treatments.

The first thing that came back to her was the one that had cemented what the BAU had told her about Abel - the day she’d been taken. 

“Hey baby,” she said as soon as Spencer picked up the phone. I’m on my way home now.”

She remembered the lightness of his voice. “Thank god,” he replied. “It’s been a long day. Do you want to watch a movie when you get back?” She even remembered the movie she wanted to watch; Dirty Dancing, he’d never seen it before.

“Absolutely. With Chinese maybe? I’ll go grab food. What would you like?” she asked. As Spencer pondered his order, tires screeched behind her. “Ah! What are you doing? Keep your hands off me! Spencer!” She’d been walking down the street to their favorite Chinese food place when she’d heard the tires. Before she could turn around to ask what the hell his problem was, she’d felt a hand around her waist and another around her mouth. And when she glanced to the side, she saw the woman she’d known as Eva. One of the women that he’d killed. He must’ve killed her shortly after Y/N had been taken.

“Y/N! Y/N! What’s happening?!”

Thankfully, Ilaria had been asleep when that memory decided to resurface in her mind. The moment she’d tuned into those calloused hands, she’d known they’d belonged to Abel and that everything she was told by the BAU was 100 percent true. The tears had nearly flooded her eyes out, sitting on the ground for nearly two hours crying. She and Spencer had been happy; Abel had taken that away, and although she hadn’t remembered much else at the time, she assumed correctly that Abel had taken her for the sole purpose of producing children. Her precious little girl - the absolute light of her life, hadn’t been born out of love, but something sinister and dark. 

The next time she had a breakthrough was right after one of her treatments with Dr. Wasser as she was leaving the office. The scenes had started to flash across her mind, the desire to cry rising until she kissed her daughter on the head, told her to wait a few extra minutes and returned to the Doctors office, sobbing about how she remember Abel hitting the woman she knew as Bethany over the head. “I never saw her again. That’s…that’s when he killed her.”

Immediately following every breakthrough, she’d go numb. Her life not seeming real. Rather feeling like a bad movie, but it wasn’t, unfortunately; it was her life. But in the ensuing days, she’d feel lighter, like her life was coming back to her. It still didn’t truly feel like hers, but she could feel deep down in her soul that they were true memories of a life she’d once lived.

Although she had a degree from before this all happened, she didn’t think she could handle the pressures of a full-time, high-stress job, so between going to therapy and meeting with her lawyer, she’d started picking up shifts at the local restaurant as a waitress. When she couldn’t take care of Ilaria, she’d had help from various members of the BAU, as well as sitters and nannies they’d suggested. After picking Ilaria up from Agent Jareau’s house, the two returned home and Y/N put her daughter to bed. “I love you, mommy,” she said softly, her small, gentle hands resting comfortably on her neck. Ilaria let go, placing a kiss on her mother’s stomach before she walked out of the room.

Outside, Y/N grabbed a glass of water, spilling some on the floor before taking a sip. Once she was done, she put the glass in the sink and went to walk toward the couch, but she’d forgotten about the water and slipped, falling backward and into the wall, hitting her head hard. Something about the pressure she felt pounding in her head, or the location she’d hurt herself, brought about a connection she hadn’t known was there. A long suppressed memory she was desperately afraid of remembering. 

“Y/N, this will go a lot more easily for you if you just comply.” Abel’s voice shivered up her spine as she pushed herself into the corner, doing everything she possibly could to get away to no avail. Her nails were loose and bloodied, scraping against the ground to try and get away from him. There were bruises on her arms and legs from where she’d fought him off. Her eyes were heavy and tired, trying to stay awake in preparation for his next assault. 

She was so tired. “I’ll never stop fighting,” she said meekly, the words feeling false in her mouth despite the truth screaming in her brain. “Never.”

Another whirl of his fist made its way to the side of her head, sending it knocking into the wall. She screamed out as he slid her bottoms off. She screamed until her throat was raw. Biting at the hand that was attempting to cover her mouth. Going light-headed at the loss of breath until she gave in. She gave in to escape the pain, tuning out the sound of his sinister laugh.

Y/N clapped her hand to her mouth as she remembered one of the many times that Abel had raped her. At first, she had put up a fight, desperate to keep something for herself, but eventually, her innate desire to live won out, and she gave in, allowing her body and mind to be molded for his use. That’s how she’d come to be as she was now.

Sobbing into her hands to keep quiet and not wake Ilaria, she began to feel the familiar burn in the back of her throat. The one she’d felt back then. It brought bile to her mouth, the sour taste bringing more tears to her eyes. “Oh god, Ilaria.” That’s how she’d been born. Not love, as she’d deluded herself into thinking, but…

For at least a couple of months, she held on to her identity. Y/N, married to Spencer. And then he’d taken that away from her. He’d tortured her so intently that she’d retreated into an imaginary world of his creation in order to keep her mind from severing in two. 

The next morning, Ilaria found her seated up against the wall of the kitchen asleep and sat in her lap until she woke up. “Did you have a bad night mommy?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

The little girl looked up at her sadly. “Did it have to do with me? I heard you say my name. Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N hugged her daughter tightly. “No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Ilaria returned her hug tenfold. She looked impossibly sad for a child her age. Though she didn’t know exactly what her mother had gone through, she could tell her mother was sad, and she knew the source of that sadness. “Ilaria, I need you to look at me,” she said that morning before she was going to get ready for day care. “Mommy is going through a very tough time right now. But I need you to know that you will forever and always be the light of my life. Nothing will ever, ever change that, okay?”

Ilaria stood up from her place in her mother’s lap. “Okay, Mommy. I love you too.” With a kiss on the cheek, she left to go to her room and pick out clothes. Although she couldn’t dress herself yet, Y/N was allowing her to pick out her own clothes, something that Abel had never let her do. Free from his tyranny - a rule she hadn’t even been aware of - she was going to heal herself, and allow her child to be the child she deserved to be. 

—-

A week after the hardest breakthrough she’d had thus far, Ms. Costas called her. Numerous meetings had clued Y/N into the fact that Ms. Costas had empathy, but she was all business. It was a little off-putting, but she was nice enough, and if she won her case and kept Y/N with her daughter, she didn’t care. “Y/N, I just got a call from Abel’s lawyers.”

“Yes?”

“They finally stopped stalling. The judge presiding over the case is notoriously fair, but the case starts in a week. Are you ready?”

As she closed her eyes, she thought of all the questions she’d ask her and all the memories she would have to relive in vivid detail. She wasn’t ready. But was anyone ever truly ready for something like this? Still in silence, she turned back toward the place on the wall where a lone picture hung, a picture of Ilaria as a baby that Abel had allowed her to keep in a wallet. This was all for her. For Ilaria, she would walk through fire. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”


	10. Chapter 10

Through therapy and the weeks that had passed since Y/N had been released from Abel’s tyranny, she’d made great strides. Her fear of Spencer had resided, and when she wasn’t working, going to therapy, or meeting with her lawyer, Ms. Costas, she’d been attempting to get to know the people she’d once known.

At first, she only met with JJ, Emily and Penelope. She’d been so thoroughly deceived by Abel that trying to reconnect with the male members of the BAU had been too hard; they’d all understood, only wishing the best for her and keeping their distance while still telling her that they were there if she needed them. Ilaria loved getting to know them, as well as JJ’s son, Henry. It was only when Y/N and Ilaria were in the presence of people who weren’t oppressive that Y/N realized she’d rarely seen Ilaria smile. She was finally being a child.

Eventually, she was able to go out with all of the members of the BAU, going out to dinner and engaging in idle chitchat. They would ask how she was doing in therapy, being careful not to pry, but also extend their help if she needed it. She was truly grateful for it. Like Ilaria, Y/N was starting to realize how little she’d actually smiled with Abel. She’d deluded herself into thinking she’d been happy with him, but she hadn’t been. He didn’t love her; he had wanted to use her for his own sick purposes. She’d been afraid of him, doing what he wanted so she wouldn’t be hit. Especially when she got pregnant with Ilaria, she did what Abel wanted when he wanted it done, because she was more afraid for her unborn child than herself; Ilaria’s safety was her number one priority.

While she was getting together for dinners with the team, she was also texting Spencer, getting to know him again. At first, she assumed that he would bring up old memories of theirs to try and help her remember, but he took her by surprise. Instead, he was asking her random questions like what her favorite color was, if she liked to read, where she wanted to travel most in the world. Spencer wasn’t trying to bring back old memories; he was trying to create new ones. During one of their rare phone calls, he’d said “If you can remember what we had, that’s great, but if not, I hope you will allow me the privilege of getting to know you again.” There was a sincerity in his voice that she hadn’t remembered experiencing with anyone else.

Since she’d gotten notice about the beginning of the trial just a couple days earlier, she’d felt this overwhelming need to make sure Spencer was going to be there, so she texted him.

Y/N: Spencer…you’re coming to the trial, right? For some reason, I just really want you to be there.

S: Of course I’m coming. You’re my wife and no matter what has happened, I still love you.

Her heart warmed at his words. There had been no pressure on his end –any pressure had come from herself, wanting to return to a normal life. Spencer had already told her that whether or not they ended up staying married, he wanted to be there for her to help her and Ilaria.

S: How are you feeling about the trial?

Y/N: I’m so nervous. They can’t take Ilaria from me. I’ll…I’ll lose my mind, Spencer. She’s the light of my life.

S: I can see why. She’s a beautiful little girl. I promise I’m not going to let anyone take her away. She belongs with you.

After many months, she was finally feeling comfortable enough to be alone with me. And she’d wanted to know of their former life so badly.

Y/N: Would you mind if we came over? Do you have pictures of how we used to be?

S: I do, and I’d love if you did.

After she woke Ilaria up from her nap and got her dressed, her daughter asked where they were going. “We’re going to visit Spencer, sweetie. You know how I told you that Spencer and I were married but I don’t remember much?”

The little girl nodded slightly. “That was before Papa, right?”

Y/N nodded in reply, tears forming in her eyes as she took in the fact that her toddler already knew that her father was a bad man. That wasn’t something a little girl should have to deal with. “Yes, it was. Well, since I’ve been going through therapy, I’ve gotten a little more comfortable around Spencer, and I wanted him to show me some pictures from before Papa took me away.”

“Can I see them too?” she asked, her eyes lighting up under the rays of sunshine streaming through her window.

“Of course, sweetie.”

Nearly an hour later, mother and daughter were outside Spencer’s apartment. Ilaria could sense her mother’s nervous energy as she knocked on the door. “It’s okay, Mama.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Spencer opened the door, his smile wide and eyes full of hope. There were two things she could say about Spencer; he was exceedingly patient, and he had never put any pressure on her to remember things she couldn’t. “Hi, how are you?” He asked. “That’s probably a stupid question. You have a lot going on right now.”

“It’s okay, Spencer. I’m okay as I can be right now, especially with the trial coming up. I feel like an endless bundle of nerves, but I’m hoping once the trial is over, we can find some semblance of a normal life,” she said as she kissed her daughter’s head. As he stepped back and invited her inside, she felt slightly more at ease. The slightly musty smell of used books and the dim lighting inside the small space felt familiar.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked.

Y/N turned around and smiled a soft contented smile that warmed Spencer’s heart. “Just water for me. Ilaria would you like some water?”

“Do you have apple juice, Mr. Spencer?” She had been introduced to apple juice at JJ’s house and had been obsessed with it. Abel controlled their diets fairly strictly; water and milk were all they were allowed in terms of beverages.

Much to Y/N’s surprise, Spencer pulled apple juice out of his refrigerator and grabbed a glass for her, putting a tiny, swirly straw inside. “Here you go, Ilaria.” The way he said her name put a smile on Y/N’s face. “And here’s some water for you.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments. It was uncomfortable; they were both just being. The smile Spencer wore was unfamiliar to her. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“It’s nothing. It’s just that that’s your seat. That’s where you always liked to sit on the couch because there’s no glare from the window. It was my favorite spot to, but I always let you sit there.” It was astounding to her the familiarity she felt in here; it was another nail in the coffin that she wasn’t meant to be near Abel, that he had never loved her. Something had drawn her to that spot on the couch; maybe deep down, she was starting to remember things from her former life.

Spencer was looking at her as if he’d just seen the most beautiful woman in the world. He was just so grateful to have her back in his life, no matter the capacity. As he crossed the room and grabbed a photo album, he came to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “Thank you,” she said softly. Somehow he understood that although she was here in his apartment, their old apartment, that she was still getting used to being in close proximity with him again.

For nearly an hour, he sat across from her and Ilaria, flipping through the pages and pointing out memories they’d shared. One was from their first date. It was a picture had taken as they were near the swings in the local park. “That’s the park just down the road,” he said. “You probably passed it on your walk here. Before we went to the park, I took you out to dinner. I kind of wanted to throw up because you were the most beautiful woman in the world to me and I didn’t want to disappoint you. To be honest, I nearly called off our first date because I was that nervous. I’m glad I didn’t though. It was one of the best nights of my life.”

Y/N looked quite different now. Her hair was shorter. Back then it was fairly long and wavy. Through all the stress, her weight had gone down also. In the pictures, her cheeks were reddened and full of life. “You look so pretty, Mama.”

“Thank you, baby,” she replied, her eyes drawn to the smiles they wore. Ilaria crawled into Spencer’s lap, happily sitting there as he recounted stories of the life her mother had shared with Mr. Spencer. He told them about everything from dates and holidays they spent together, to the night he proposed, when he actually did throw up from nerves, as well as anything and everything in between.

Finally, she settled onto the last few pages, where pictures of their wedding day were located. As she scanned the pages, a sick feeling started to come over her. While her day with Spencer had been filled with joy and love and hope for the future, she remembered the day Abel had told her that she belonged to him, that although they weren’t married, she belonged to him and no one else. His hands had gripped so tightly around her arms, they’d left bruises. She had been so scared of him that she’d agreed to be his. At that point, Ilaria had been born, and she’d been so afraid for her daughter that she would’ve done anything he told her to.

The breath began to catch in her lungs, goosebumps trailing along her skin. She started shaking and when Spencer reached over to touch her arm and ask her if she was okay, she recoiled from him. Spencer pulled his arm back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I-I’m just remembering something about Abel that I want to forget,” she said honestly. She couldn’t be here anymore. It was too much for her and she didn’t want to hurt Spencer more than he’d already been hurt. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I have to go. I have to-“ She stood up and grabbed Ilaria off the floor where she’d been sitting for a couple of minutes playing with a toy. “I need to go. Maybe another time?”

Spencer’s eyes glazed over with tears, but he nodded. “Whenever you want. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but I’m here if you need me.”

“I know,” she said honestly, her chest tightening at long-repressed memories making their way to the surface. “I’m really sorry. I’m really sorry.” Without another word, she walked out of the apartment with Ilaria hugged closely to her chest.

“Are you okay, Mama? Did Mr. Spencer do anything wrong?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “No, baby. Mr. Spencer was very nice. He’s being very patient with me. I just remembered something about Papa that made me sad and I wanted to get away from Mr. Spencer before that bad memory connected with the good memory I had of Spencer.”

“What did you remember about Papa?”

A two and a half year old didn’t need to know the ins and outs of all she’d been through. Maybe one day, when she was older, and Y/N felt like she’d healed, she’d tell her daughter what happened, but until then, she needed to protect her little girl as long as she could. “It’s nothing, baby,” she said softly as she walked down the stairs toward the subway. “I’m gonna get through it. With a little help from everyone, you and I are going to make it through this, okay?”

“I know, Mama. You should be happy.”

“As long as I have you, I will be.” That was one thing she could be certain of.

When they got home, Y/N would put her daughter to bed, have a good, long cry in the shower about all that she’d lost, and then steel herself for the upcoming trial. It wasn’t going to be easy, but if she could get through that with her daughter in tow and her mind still intact, she could begin to fully focus on being a mother, rebuilding her relationships with the people she used to know, and most importantly, healing herself.


	11. Chapter 11

Bile. 

Pain.

Dizzy.

As Y/N walked into the courthouse the morning of the trial with her daughter, she passed him. It was obviously well-orchestrated by the opposing side to throw her off balance. Abel smiled silkily as she averted her eyes from his and walked straight into the courtroom and toward the members of the BAU. 

Over the months of getting to know them, or rather getting to know them again, Y/N had learned that Penelope Garcia was not used to being up close and personal with cases in this way. She was better behind a desk. That’s why Y/N asked her to stay out of the courtroom. “As you can imagine, I don’t trust many people at this point in my life,” she said, as Penelope’s smile emerged. “But I do trust you, and I desperately don’t want Ilaria in the courtroom. Would you take care of her while I’m in here?”

Penelope sighed and clutched her hand to her heart. “Of course I will. Ilaria, you want to spend some time with me while Mommy is in court?” The little girl nodded almost imperceptibly and climbed willingly into Penelope’s waiting arms. Before leaving, she lifted her hand to the side of Y/N’s face, her thumb gently caressing her cheek as she whispered words of encouragement for the fight ahead. “You have already lived through so much. I can’t imagine what this is going to be like for you, but no matter how tough it is, you are stronger than it. Okay?”

The bile rose again in her throat. She was getting closer and closer to having to look him in the eye and recount in vivid detail what he’d done to her - the most vivid detail she could given that some of her memories still hadn’t returned to her. “Do you hear me?” Penelope asked. 

“Yes, I hear you. And thank you Penelope.” She turned to the rest of the BAU, Spencer included, all of whom said they weren’t going anywhere until this trial was over. They’d be with her every step of the way. “All of you. I can’t thank you enough for being here for me and allowing me to come to you at my own pace.” Looking around, her eyes rested on Spencer, who smiled softly before being interrupted by the bailiff calling for everyone to make their way into the courtroom.

Ilaria motioned toward her, reaching for a hug before she left with Penelope. “I love you, Mommy.”

Y/N took her strength and multiplied it. This was all for her. “I love you, too, little girl. So much. You are my strength.” She kissed her on the cheek and thanked Penelope again before walking into the courtroom and sitting at the front behind the prosecution.

Each second stretched into minutes, hours and days. Opening arguments were made on both ends. Nikita made an amazing speech about the ability to consent - that it had never been given, and even under the guise of Rebekah, could never have been given because Rebekah was not who she was. Her speech left Y/N feeling hopeful about what was to come, but then the defense went and made an equally impassioned argument that left her feeling sick to her stomach. She knew this was going to be difficult, but the reality of it was proving even more punishing than she imagined. 

Sitting next to Spencer had become more and more comfortable for her, so she sat at his side and waited to be called. Grant Matherson, Abel’s lawyer, leaned over to talk to Nikita, and then she turned around to talk to Y/N. “Mr. Matherson has asked if Abel can go first despite what we’d originally agreed upon. I think we should.”

“Why?” Spencer asked hotly. Y/N echoed his statement.

“There may be a certain advantage to going first, but I truly believe we’d be better off going second. It would allow us to have the last word whenever the trial concludes, and leaving the jury with your voice and not his would be best for us.” Nikita had wanted this originally, but Y/N had insisted on getting her story out there. However, now that the time had come, Y/N wasn’t so sure she had the strength to stand up, and if her lawyer truly thought that going second was best, she would oblige.

“Okay,” Y/N replied, nodding as she sat back in the seat and started to shake. Spencer looked down to see the tremble in her hand and offered her his, allowing her to take it if she needed to, or not, if she didn’t feel comfortable. They had had a few moments of physical contact in the past few weeks and it was becoming easier for her, so she laid her hand on top of his and took a few deep breaths.

Nikita Costas was nothing if not thorough and tenacious. “This is going to be difficult. He’s going to say things that make you sick to your stomach, but I am confident that I can win this case. Can you trust me?”

“You’ve never given me a reason not to.”

On the other side of the courtroom, Mr. Matherson called Abel to the stand. Y/N silently begged for the fire in her eyes to burn him on the spot, but she wasn’t so lucky. He sat down and swore on the Bible, something he claimed to live his life by, that he would tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The first few questions were to establish background for himself and for “Rebekah” - where they met and how they fell in love. It was all a lie. Everything sound that dripped from his mouth was tainted with venom and deception. “Do you know of anyone named Y/N?” Matherson asked.

“I do not.” Abel said it with such certainty, Y/N began to question everything. 

“Who is this woman?” He asked, pointing to where Y/N was sitting. 

“Rebekah, the mother of my child.”

Y/N’s body shuddered forcefully. She was looking at the ground, her hand still resting on top of Spencer’s, but she managed to look up and stare him down for a moment. That last bit was true. Unfortunately, he was her child’s father. “And the child, Ilaria, is your daughter?”

“Yes, she is.” The pride in his voice made Y/N want to vomit, but she held herself together. Matherson asked a few more questions, very basic ones that didn’t get into the meat of the issues that brought them here, before allowing the prosecution to call their first witness - Y/N.

With a deep breath, she made her way up to the stand and sat down, swearing to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “State your name,” Ms. Costas said. 

“My name is Y/N Reid.” She spoke shakily, wishing she didn’t have all eyes on her. At the mention of her true last name, she looked at Spencer; he smiled and nodded. “Can you tell the court how you came to be Mrs. Reid?”

Her extensive therapy had allowed her to ease her mind and unlock additional memories. “I met Spencer at a coffee shop down the street from where he worked. At the time, I lived above the shop by myself. I was just graduating from college with a Bachelor of Arts degree. We dated for about a year and a half before we got married, and we got married fairly quickly.”

“Now, can you tell the court about the events of April 23, 2014?”

She swallowed hard and turned slightly in her chair, making direct eye contact with Abel. “I was coming home from work and I called my husband, Spencer, to ask if he wanted me to bring home dinner.” She resisted the urge to give flowery details about the relationship. It was unnecessary to the details of the case and would be called into relevance, so she stayed on track. “He picked up and we settled on getting Chinese food and watching a movie when I returned home. Before I could hang up, I heard tires screech behind me. One person was driving and then Abel came up from behind me, put one hand around my waist and the other over my mouth and pulled me back into the car.”

“Objection, if she was caught from behind, how can she even be positive it was my client who grabbed her?”

Nikita’s eyes bore into Matherson; it was honestly a pretty stupid question to ask, but the judge allowed him to ask it. Y/N had an answer prepared for that - one that was both truthful and scarring. It would leave an impact on all those who heard. “Mrs. Reid, tell the court how you know the person that grabbed you was Mr. Matherson’s client.”

“I noticed a deep scar in between his thumb and forefinger on his right hand.”

Nikita then asked for Abel to raise his right hand, where the scar was now softer and healed, but very much still visible. “It was the hand that did most of the beating over the next few months of my life.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Your witness,” Nikita said, before turning to Y/N and giving her a supportive smile. 

“Mrs. Reid, how many sexual partners have you had?”

“Objection!” Nikita said, standing up immediately, her eyes filled with vitriol. “Relevance?”

“Goes to the credibility of the witness,” Matherson stated. This was one of the things Y/N had been warned about, but the judge had taken her off guard.

“Sex and credibility do not go hand-in-hand, Mr. Matherson. We are here on murder charges.” In a split second, Abel’s eyes lost a bit of their venomous sparkle. He had been banking on discrediting her through her background. “Switch to another line of questioning or sit down.”

“Yes, your honor,” he said. “Can you tell us who was driving the car the day you were allegedly taken?”

“Her name to me was Eva to me.”

“To you?”

“Her real name was Natalie Jenkins.”

“But she wasn’t with you when you were taken from your home?”

“When I was rescued you mean,” she replied, her confidence building as she spoke. “No, she wasn’t. She’s dead.”

“Who told you that?”

“Agent Derek Morgan of the BAU.”

“Friends with the man you claim to be your husband, Spencer Reid?”

“Objection, again, relevance?” Nikita growled. 

“I’ll allow it.” The judge didn’t like that she had to allow this line of questioning, because she, as well as the entire courtroom knew where it was going. “Answer the question, Y/N.”

“Yes, Agent Morgan is friends with my husband. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Could it be possible that Agent Morgan lied to you on behalf of your husband who was trying to get you back after you left him?”

“I didn’t leave him! I was taken! I was abducted!” Y/N screamed, fighting ever urge to leap up from the seat. “Abel abducted me off the sidewalk!”

“And who told you that?”

“I did!” She shrieked. “I remembered!”

“After your numerous EMDR treatments?”

“Yes!”

“How can we be sure Dr. Wasser didn’t plant those memories herself?”

“Objection!” Nikita screamed. “The defense is grasping for straws because they couldn’t use the witness’s sexual history to demean her!”

“Silence!” The judge cried, banging her gavel against the bench. “If you want to continue this line of questioning, you can call Dr. Wasser to the stand next. Move along and continue your questioning.”

Again the questions continued until Y/N was allowed to return to her seat and Abel was called for re-direct examination. She’d been asked about Ilaria. Her conception and birth. Abel was going to be allowed the right to tell his version of the story. The bile in Y/N’s stomach burned its way upward and nestled itself in her throat as he told his story of the night Ilaria was conceived. He claimed it was the night that he and his other lovers had welcomed her into the fold, about a month after she’d been taken. “Ilaria was born nine months later. She’s my youngest child at almost three with the exception of Catherine, who is still with child. Once this trial is over, I plan to be reunited with all my children.”

“You will never get your hands on my daughter!” Y/N screamed.

The judge silenced her, yelling for her to remain quiet or she would be removed from the courtroom. Nikita immediately turned around, her demeanor slightly too upbeat considering what just happened. “I request a recess.”

“Granted. We’ll reconvene in 20 minutes when, Mr. Matherson, you can call your first character witness.”

Y/N shook with anger as she walked out of the courtroom, her lawyer and the BAU behind her. “What are you so happy about?” Y/N yelled. “What could possibly be causing you to smile at a time like this?”

“Ilaria was never tested for paternity,” Nikita stated.

“No,” Y/N replied. “Abel told me she was his and I believed him. Her age fits.”

Her tears were hot against her skin as Nikita spoke steadily. “Did anyone else catch what I just heard in there? About when Ilaria was conceived?”

“I did,” Hotch said. As a former lawyer, he was the only other person who’d caught it, including Spencer. They’d all been too angry. “He claimed she was conceived a month after you were taken. Fast forward nine months to her birth, that has it ten months after you were taken. It was just over three years until we found you again. That would have her at just over two years old now, about 26 months. But he just said nearly three years old. That’s a 10 month difference. You could’ve been pregnant when you were taken, but after he’d…” He hesitated, swallowing his words, broken you, he decided to pass her off as his. The timelines don’t meet up, plus if she is older, she’s small for her age. He could’ve lied about her age to fit his needs and you would never have known because you didn’t want to subject her to the poking and prodding of testing after all you’d both been through. We have to have her tested. Ilaria may not be Abel’s daughter.”


	12. Chapter 12

Spencer’s brain was buzzing; he hadn’t even caught that. “She could be mine?” He asked the question so softly and to no one in particular, his eyes too watery and his mind too clouded to concentrate on much. And then his eyes fell on Y/N. The flicker of hope in her eyes reflected his own. No matter what happened between them – whether they stayed married, got divorced, never spoke to each other again – he wanted Ilaria to be his. 

It wouldn’t erase what happened to her, but it would let her know that her child wasn’t conceived out of the horrific thing that was done to her, but rather the love they once shared. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Spencer’s eyes fell on hers. God, how he wanted to hold her. She looked like her entire world was simultaneously being crumbled and yet built back up around her and yet she didn’t know where to look, who to talk to, or what to do. Nothing made sense. “We need to make a motion to have her tested by the courts,” Nikita said firmly. As gently as she could, she grabbed Y/N’s arms and turned her to face her. “If we’re right, then it would go to discrediting Abel’s credibility.”

“I’ve been watching the jury,” Morgan said, stepping out from behind Spencer and Hotch. “They don’t like Abel. They believe you. I can feel it. This would be another nail in his coffin.”

The tears fell from her eyes as she nodded in agreement, the booming voice of the bailiff gathering everyone back inside. Y/N was nearly frozen in place; hope both freeing and freezing her. She wanted Ilaria to be Spencer’s more than anything else in the world, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up for fear of being let down again. When she put her weight on her right foot to begin walking into the courtroom, she lost her balance and fell backward into Spencer. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“I want you to be…but I’m scared he still is.”

Careful not to frighten her, Spencer righted the woman he loved back in place. “It’s going to be okay. Whether or not she is biologically mine, if you want me in your lives, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” She leaned into his chest for a second, taking a deep breath and then walking back inside.

“We’re in session.” The judge greeted everyone again and told them all to sit.

Dr. Wasser was now sitting in the courtroom; the defense was going to try and claim that she planted memories in Y/N’s head. However, before anyone could get called to testify, Nikita stood up. “Your Honor, the prosecution requests a DNA test be done on the child Ilaria Y/L/N, on the basis that the defendant lied about the child’s paternity to keep Y/N Y/L/N by his side under false pretenses.”

“Objection.” Mr. Matherson hesitated, stating no reason for the objection. “Mr. Mitchell is the child’s father.”

Nikita stood up, straightened her suit jacket and spoke swiftly. “Before the recess, Mr. Mitchell claimed the child was, and I quote, ‘she’s my youngest child at almost three years with the exception of Catherine, who is still with child.’ Y/N was under the impression that the child was nearly a year younger, which would mean there is no doubt that the child is his, however, if, as Mr. Mitchell said on the stand, that the child is closer to the age of three, then that could mean she is his biological child, or that the child belongs to Y/N’s husband, Spencer Reid. If she was pregnant when Mr. Mitchell allegedly took her, then he lied about the child’s paternity to keep Y/N close, which in turn would go to his credibility. If the defense can claim that Dr. Wasser planted memories into my client’s mind, then I believe the prosecution has the right to discredit the defendant as well.”

“Any objection Mr. Matherson?” The judge asked, seemingly ready to grant the motion. Of course, he said nothing - because they had no concrete proof that Ilaria was his biological daughter. “Then the motion is granted. You will be able to call Dr. Wasser to the stand. Ms. Costas, you will then be allowed to cross-examine, and then we will be dismissed so that Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Reid and the child may have a sample taken to be sent to the lab of my choosing. The results should take no longer than three days and we will reconvene at that time. Are there objections on either side?”

Nikita shook her head; she was more than happy with the decision. Matherson on the other hand reluctantly shook his head. When Spencer looked toward Abel’s side of the courtroom, he was squirming; for the first time since he’d laid eyes on him, Abel looked scared. He truly believed that Ilaria could be Spencer’s and not his, and that filled Spencer with hope.

“Mr. Matherson. Call your witness.” As Dr. Wasser was called to the stand, Y/N and Spencer exchanged glances. He looked down at his hand, open for her if she wanted to take it – she did, and gave it a light squeeze as her psychologist sat down.

The first couple of questions asked were base questions to let the jury know exactly what EMDR was and how it was supposed to work in relation to Y/N’s case. “So the questions you ask give the client a piece of information they might not have had otherwise? To see if there is a reaction?”

“No,” Dr. Wasser replied stiffly. “That’s not how it works. With the use of the techniques I have already described, I get the client into a compliant, or semi-hypnotic state, where they can access the memories that are plaguing them, then when they bring something up, I help them work through those feelings. I have never planted a memory into someone’s mind, and frankly I don’t appreciate the insinuation to the contrary.”

The questioning continued, but in Y/N’s eyes, it looked like the line of questioning was in vain. “He’s a good lawyer?” Y/N whispered to Spencer. “It doesn’t look like he’s doing well.”

“He’s not,” Spencer said softly, his pride in choosing the right attorney evident in his voice. “He’s grasping at straws. I assume Abel paid him handsomely, which is why he took the case, but he’s not doing well. How are you doing? Are you okay?” His hand squeezed hers, the feeling of her palm against his so familiar and heartwarming.

Before she could answer, Abel stood up and started yelling, with Matherson having admitted defeat and ceased his line off questioning. “How can we be so sure that everyone here isn’t being swayed by the fact that Y/N is close with the members of the BAU? How can we be positive that everyone isn’t being paid off? Even you!” He screamed, pointing at the judge. “From what I hear, Agent Rossi has endless funds-“

“Silence!” The judge bellowed so loudly her voice ripped through everyone in the courtroom. “One more word and I will place you in contempt of court, Mr. Mitchell. You are on thin ice.”

Behind Spencer and Y/N, Rossi stood up. “Your honor, if it pleases the defense, they may have a look at all of my finances. Y/N’s living situation has been paid for by me, but other than that, no one has gotten any payment for any service.”

Y/N looked up at Rossi with tears in her eyes. She hadn’t known he was the one to pay for her apartment; she was under the assumption that it was state-funded. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

“Agent Rossi, your finances from the past five years will be turned over to appease the defense. Otherwise, Mr. Matherson, if you are done with your questioning of Dr. Wasser, and Ms. Costas, you do not wish to cross-examine, then we will reconvene in three days time when the DNA results are back.”

The buzzing of the courtroom died down as they were dismissed for the time being. “Thank you, Agent Rossi,” Y/N said again. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“You may not remember us that well, but we remember you. We’d do anything for you.” He placed his hand softly on her shoulder and gave her a fatherly smile. “Call me, David.” 

“Thank you, David. A thousand times, thank you.”

Within the hour, she, Ilaria and Abel had their blood samples taken. “I don’t know what to do now. What do I do for the next three days?”

Ilaria climbed into her arms, immediately resting her head on her mother’s shoulder and falling asleep. “I just want this to be over.” Her tears practically steamed against the cool air of the courthouse.

“I would say we could help distract you,” JJ said with a smile. “But that would probably be seen as a conflict of interest, so I would suggest that you go home and spend time with her.” Gently, JJ placed her hand on the back of Ilaria’s head, stroking the sweet, soft curls as Ilaria breathed deeply. “Don’t let your mind rest on anything related to this case. Just think of her. And in a few days, we’ll be here no matter what. Okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Spencer said, adding, “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me too. But JJ is right. She’s all that matters right now.”

With a thousand more thank yous, a few soft smiles, and another short exchange between Y/N and Spencer, she climbed into a government-issued car, clutching her daughter tightly and headed back home.

The little girls’ soft curls fluttered in the air wafting in from the car ride back. As Y/N looked at her baby – her adorable little lips, tiny fingers and slightly upturned nose – she prayed to anyone that would listen that her baby belonged to Spencer. Memories had been coming back in bits and pieces, quicker and quicker with each day. All she wanted was for this to be over so that maybe, just maybe, she and Spencer could start anew. She could feel the connection; the one that probably drew them together to begin with. Old memories may not hold the same sentimentality as they had, but they might be able to make new ones if she could just make her recent past fade into a distant memory.


	13. Chapter 13

Given that the DNA test was done as a result of the case itself, the results came to the judge, who was to give them the results in private before returning to trial. It was time. Abel was brought in with his lawyer, and Y/N and Spencer were just about to step inside the judge’s chambers along with her lawyer, Nikita. 

In the distress this trial had been bringing, Y/N had started holding Spencer’s hand, feeling a familiar comfort that helped her to ground herself. “No matter what,” Spencer said, gently grazing the side of her face. “No matter what the results are, if you want me to be in your lives, I’m here. No matter how much work it takes.”

Y/N nodded, her lips quivering as the tears fell from her eyes. Biology wasn’t necessarily everything, but she wanted Ilaria to be Spencer’s daughter more than anything in the world. Reaching up, she placed her hand over his and then looked toward Nikita.

“Are you ready?” Nikita asked.

Honestly, Y/N was on the verge of getting sick, but this feeling was only going to go away when they knew the results, so she was as ready as she was going to be. “Yes,” she said, her heart lurching in her throat. “Let’s go.”

As they walked inside, hand-in-hand behind Nikita, the two once-lovers leaned closer into each other, praying for the results they wanted. Nothing Spencer had ever been through in his life, or in the context of his job, had felt like this. He was a whirlwind of emotions; he felt sick, hopeful, angry, sad. It was one giant mixture and even deep breathing wasn’t helping the feeling subside. “Good morning,” the judge said, standing up from her place at her desk. “I have the results right here. I haven’t read them myself. Are you ready?” She spoke directly to Y/N, ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Yes.” 

Y/N was shaky and her eyes were downcast toward the ground. Spencer hesitantly placed his hand on the small of her back to try and steady her, whispering all the while. “It’s going to be okay.”

Opening up the envelope that contained the results seemed to take an eternity, the scratching of the paper resounding through their ears like a drum. “In the case of the child, Ilaria…Spencer Reid is the child’s father.”

An ear-piercing screech emanated from Y/N’s throat as she collapsed into tears on Spencer’s shoulder. “Oh my god! Thank god!” Immediately, she turned toward the judge to take the results from her hand, needing proof with her own two eyes that her child belonged to her husband and not the man that had violated her for years on end. “Oh my god,” she said, “Ilaria is yours. She’s really yours. Oh my god.” 

Clutching the paper in her hands, she wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck and leaned into him. Out of the corner of her tear-filled eyes, she could see the judge smile softly and Nikita let out a long-held breath. Only when Spencer looked at the paper himself did he finally believe it; the beautiful little girl was his. Tears stung at his eyes as he finally let out a sob. “She’s mine.” Gently, he caressed the sides of her face and pulled her back to meet his gaze; this was as close as they’d been in so many years. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her, but he refrained himself, leaning his forehead against hers instead.

The flooding tears hung in her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. Her baby girl was Spencer’s. Thank god. When she looked up, she saw Abel, angry but resigned. “You knew?!” She moved Spencer to the side and walked up to him, feeling more powerful and angrier than she had in many years. “You knew that she wasn’t yours and you lied to me…you…you!” She lunged forward and nearly clawed at his face, but was stopped by a slight pressure at her wrist.

“Don’t!” Spencer said, careful not to tug or pull at her. “He’s not worth it. He’ll never touch her or you again. He’s not worth it.”

Matherson made an empty motion to keep Y/N and Spencer away from Abel because they were a threat to his safety, but after being laughed at by the judge, it was time to get back to the trial. 

“Nikita,” Y/N said, grabbing her lawyer’s arm and spinning her around to face her. “Is there any chance you can ask to postpone the trial by another 30 minutes are so. I can barely breathe and I’d very much like to tell my daughter who her real father is.”

Placing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, Nikita turned around again to face the judge. “My client requests another 30 minutes to recover from the news and introduce her child to her birth father.”

“Granted,” the judge said. “We’ll reconvene in the courtroom in 30 minutes, Mrs. Reid.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

Y/N’s blood boiled in her veins, while Abel left the room with his lawyer. The smug smile he wore made her skin crawl, but Spencer was right. He wasn’t worth it. The judge and Nikita then left them standing in the judge’s chambers. Y/N brought her hands to the sides of Spencer’s face. “She’s yours,” she said softly as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Her beautiful nose came from you. Her soft curls came from you. She doesn’t have a trace of him in her.” Spencer reveled in the feeling of Y/N willingly leaning her head against his own. “Thank god.” 

“We should go see her,” Spencer said, smiling from ear to ear. Since the moment he saw the little girl, he’d seen similarities between them both. Then when Y/N had reveled her name to be Ilaria, he’d hoped that was indication that she was still in there somewhere; he never expected that she’d end up being his. Though smart for her age, Ilaria was small, which is why she’d been so easy to pass off as Abel’s child. “Will you take my hand?”

Spencer gave Y/N’s hand a light squeeze when she slipped it in his. When they walked out of the judge’s chambers and back towards the members of the BAU, who were keeping an eye on Ilaria, both parents’ hearts soared. “She’s so beautiful,” Spencer said through tears. “I promise I’ll be the father she deserves.”

“I know you will,” Y/N replied. The members of the team were all waiting with bated breath. All of them were on the verge of tears, wanting so badly for the same results she and Spencer had wished for.

Ilaria was sitting in Penelope’s lap, eagerly awaiting the return of her mother. “Hey sweetheart,” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You remember the other day when you had blood taken? And I said it would tell me whether or not Abel was your daddy or Spencer was your daddy?”

The little girl nodded firmly and looked between her mother and the nice man she’d liked since they met. “Mmmhmm.”

“Well, the judge just told us, and Spencer is your daddy. Not Abel.” Penelope clasped her hand to her mouth and immediately began crying as she looked up toward Spencer.

Spencer crouched down to Ilaria’s level. “I’m your daddy, Ilaria.”

“Yea?” She asked happily. “So I have a nice daddy? Not a mean one?”

Spencer sobbed and grabbed her tiny hands in his own. “Yes, honey.”

“Can I hug you, Daddy?” 

Before Spencer could even answer, Ilaria had hopped off of Penelope’s lap and into his arms. He stood up, clutching her closely as the rest of the team hugged Y/N through tears. Even Hotch, Rossi and Derek, who had previously stayed away from physical contact so as to not upset Y/N were able to tell her how happy they were for her. “I know this isn’t over,” Hotch said. “But it’s a step in the right direction. You don’t remember everything about Spencer just yet, but I can promise you he’ll be the best father you could’ve ever asked for.”

Looking back, Y/N smiled. Ilaria was holding on tightly to Spencer’s neck and calling him Daddy over and over again. “I know he will. I have a lot of recovering to do, but knowing she’s happy and cared for will do wonders for my ability to move on. I don’t remember everything about Spencer yet, but I know deep down he’ll do right by our baby.” 

“Okay, baby,” Spencer said after a few moments. “Mommy and I have to go back to the trial. Can you stay here with Ms. Penelope and the rest of my friends?” 

“Daddy’s friends?” She asked, searching for any excuse to call him daddy. 

“Yes, Daddy’s friends,” he replied. “And then after the trial is over, you and Daddy and Mommy can all try and get to know each other. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” Watching the exchange brought about renewed tears. “Are you okay Mommy?” 

Y/N licked her lips and shed a few more tears. “Yes baby, I’m okay. These are happy tears.”

“You’re happy that Spencer’s my daddy?” She asked.

“Very, honey. I’m very happy Spencer is your daddy.”


	14. Chapter 14

“I plead the fifth,” Abel said, sending the fire running through Y/N’s veins. 

“Excuse me?” Nikita asked. “Can you repeat yourself for the court? In regards to you having the knowledge of the true paternity of Mrs. Reid’s child, you…?”

Nikita stepped out of the way so that Abel could speak directly to the jury, but he didn’t make eye contact with any of them. “I said, I plead the fifth. I invoke my right not to testify.” 

Behind the division in the courtroom, Spencer smiled; Abel knew he was caught, and now he was refusing to speak so that the prosecution would have to provide the burden of proof that he was guilty. They had all the evidence they needed to keep him behind bars for as long as he lived. Spencer wasn’t normally one for the death penalty, believing it really didn’t do anything to deter crime, but when it came to the woman he loved and his child – the child he’d been denied knowing for the first three years of her life – he wanted to watch Abel die a painful death a thousand times over. “He knows he’s done, doesn’t he?” Y/N asked, squeezing Spencer’s hand lightly.

Spencer nodded, bringing her hand up to his and placing a kiss on her knuckles; though they weren’t bruised anymore, he could only imagine the pain she went through, clawing at that man for her life, and eventually the life of their baby girl. “Now the prosecution is going to be up, calling all the witnesses they need to prove that Abel was guilty of the murders. Ilaria has nothing to do with this anymore.”

Y/N closed her eyes, tears threatening to burst forth from underneath her curtained eyes. No longer did she have to worry about Ilaria’s safety; eventually, she would have to explain what had happened when she was a child, but for now, Ilaria was out of harm’s way and had not one, but two parents that loved her more than all the stars in the sky.

“She’s okay,” he whispered. “Her part in this is over for now. It’s just about ensuring that Abel goes away for the rest of his life.”

In the ensuing days, the prosecution called each and every member of the BAU, numerous officers from the local police force that did the clean up after the BAU left Mitchell’s house, and all of the other three victims, Monica Shiller, his most recent, who thankfully never had the time to be brainwashed by Abel, as well as Mary and Catherine, or Anya Telster and Sarah Molston as they were actually known. 

Monica recounted everything just as Y/N had. “Can you tell us what happened the day you were allegedly taken?” Spencer could practically feel Nikita’s eyes rolling in the back of her head. Having to use the word allegedly until he was actually convicted made her skin crawl.

From across the courtroom, Monica’s eyes met up with Y/N’s. “I was walking down the sidewalk on my way home from work, when I stopped to check the time on my phone. I was hungry and I was wondering if it was too early for me to grab a few slices of pizza, or maybe an entire pie. I wasn’t having a good day and I wanted pizza and wine. All of a sudden, I felt one hand around my waist and another around my mouth. I was pulled backward.” Up until this point, she had recounted the story like it was any other day, but as she continued her voice started to break. “When I was pulled into the car, I saw a woman at the wheel.”

“Is the woman who was driving in the courtroom today?” Nikita asked, watching as Monica nodded and raised her hand. “Let the record show that the witness, Monica Shiller, is pointing at Sarah Molston, also known as Catherine.”

“My name is Catherine! I don’t know Sarah!” She screamed. Her parents sat in the back of the courtroom in tears, unaware if they would ever see their daughter again. Being pregnant with Abel’s child had left Sarah in an even more vulnerable state; she was convinced that Abel was her husband and loved her. While Anya, known as Mary to Y/N while she’d been held in captivity and had already testified, had two children by the man, but was very well aware that she had been taken, just doing what he instructed in order to keep herself alive so that she could protect her son and daughter.

Sarah was asked to sit down. She was going to be the defense’s final witness. “Thank you, Ms. Shiller,” Nikita said. “Your witness.”

The defense went on to cross-examine Monica. It was almost an embarrassment, with Monica dragging Mr. Matherson to hell and back when he tried to claim that she’d been so distraught at the loss of her previous relationship (the reason she’d been having a bad day) that she didn’t know what she was talking about.

Finally, it was time for the prosecution’s final witness – Spencer. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Nikita had prepared him before on the questions she would ask, most of which happened to be regarding the other victims, and what he’d seen the day that they and Y/N had been found, before being handed off to Mr. Matherson for cross-examination. “Mr. Reid-“ 

“Dr. Reid, Mr. Matherson.”

“Dr. Reid, your wife is Y/N Reid, one of the alleged victims.”

“Yes. She is my wife. Ilaria is our daughter,” he said, his lips twitching up into a smirk as he made eye contact with Abel.

Mr. Matherson was grasping at straws as he continued his questioning. Spencer could tell by his line of questioning that the only reason he was even continuing at all was because he’d been paid by Abel to fight tooth and nail. But Spencer could see he regretted it; this case would hurt his credibility in the community, because there was no way he could possibly win. “According to various other members of the BAU, you were the one to first hear the results of the DNA test regarding the material found under the fingernails of the victims, Natalie Jenkins and Elena Perry?” 

“Yes, I was.” 

“And your wife is Y/N? Another alleged victim?”

Spencer started biting his tongue, desperate to keep himself professional despite the fact that Mr. Matherson was an idiot. “Yes, I believe I said that just a moment ago.” 

“And you didn’t do anything to doctor the results of the test to frame the man you claim hurt your beloved wife?” He’d said it with such sincerity; Spencer wondered whether or not defense attorneys were able to sleep at night.

“Objection!” Nikita exclaimed exasperatedly. Her voice was practically going hoarse from all the times she’d objected to the defense’s line of questioning.

Spencer sat up in his chair, giving Y/N a smile before he opened his mouth. “I don’t mind answering, your honor.” 

“Go ahead, Dr. Reid,” she replied. 

“While I do happen to want Mr. Mitchell dead for what he put my wife through, I am a member of law enforcement. My dedication to my job and the law is one of the things that made my wife fall in love with me to begin with. I would not doctor results to fit my needs. It would go against everything I am. The results are what they are, whether Mr. Mitchell wants to accept them or not. His skin cells were found under the nails of Natalie Jenkins and Elena Perry.” His voice had started off faltering, but as he spoke, it evened out, becoming more and more confident. “There is an undeniable rage that burns within me for that man, but my love for my wife is stronger. She wouldn’t want me to change who I am to frame someone when the evidence speaks for itself. However, if none of that is good enough for Mr. Matherson or Mr. Mitchell, you can feel free to call Dr. Olena Stewart, who conducted the DNA test for confirmation. I believe she ran the test three times, but again, check if that suits your ridiculous line of questioning.” 

Y/N could not have been more proud of her child’s father. After this was all over, she wanted to be a family again, no matter how hard it would be for her to come to terms with everything that happened. “I’m done questioning the witness,” Mr. Matherson said, as he walked back to his side of the courtroom, defeated.

“You can return to your seat, Dr. Reid.” The judge was just as tired of Mr. Matherson’s desperation to keep his case alive. “And Mr. Matherson, you may call your final witness.” 

He called Catherine by Abel’s name for her, rather than Sarah Molston. When she got on the stand, Y/N had been brought to tears; she’d been so close to being just as deeply brainwashed as Sarah was, and the thought broke her heart. She claimed what Y/N had claimed when she was first rescued from Abel’s hell on earth, that she met him in church, they’d fallen in love, and she’d accepted his other women because he was doing God’s work by populating the earth with Disciples of Christ. “Your witness, Ms. Costas.”

Nikita had one trick up her sleeve that she planned on using to at least put doubt into the jury’s mind regarding Sarah’s state of mind. “Ms. Molston-“

“Catherine,” she said insistently. 

Nikita nodded. She hated having to call her that, but if it would get her to listen to her line of questioning she’d do it. “Ever since you were a little girl, what was the thing you wanted most?”

“Objection, relevance?” Mr. Matherson asked.

Nikita glanced up at the judge. “I am going somewhere with this line of questioning.”

“I will allow it,” she said. “But get there quickly. Answer the question, Catherine.”

“I wanted to be a mother. Abel made that happen.” 

Nikita smirked. “You used to play with dolls, right? Stuffed animals and baby dolls? You’d pretend to take care of them?”

Catherine smiled wide, her eyes full of innocence, that Nikita was actively trying to break; she hated herself for it, but it needed to be done. “I won’t have to pretend anymore.”

“No, you won’t. Have you and Abel chosen names? Have you gone shopping for the baby?”

“No names,” she said. “But we do have some toys and a crib.”

Nikita went to her desk and grabbed a bag with a stuffed bear inside, it was small and off-white with age, with little brown dots on the paws made in marker, ragged but still intact. “Is this one of those toys?”

“Yes, it is.”

“May I present exhibit B,” Nikita said to the courtroom. “Catherine, what do you see in this picture?”

She looked at the picture for a moment confused. “These are the people they say are my parents.”

“And who is that little girl?”

“I assume it’s me because of the necklace.” Her parents had gotten it for her as a child and she never took it off.

“And what is the little girl holding?”

At the very bottom of the picture was the little stuffed bear. The marker dots were in the same place. It was the same size and everything. “Let the record show that the stuffed bear in the picture is the same one Mr. Mitchell claimed to have bought for his unborn child.”

Catherine looked at the picture and back at Abel numerous times, her eyes filling with tears. “Exhibit C, sworn testimony by the witness’ mother and father as to the contents of her purse on the day she disappeared. Let the record reflect that Exhibit A, the stuffed bear, was in her bag the day she disappeared. Mr. Mitchell took it out of your bag and saved it for the day you would carry his child to use it to further convince you of his genuineness.”

“No, no, no,” she said. “That can’t be. He went out and bought it. Maybe I did have it and I wanted to pass it down to my baby. That’s why it was in my bag.”

“If that’s the case, then how was it out of our possession until now?” Nikita asked. The blank state of confusion reflected on Catherine’s face was enough for the jury. 

She spoke quietly. “I-I-I don’t know.”

“Thank you, Catherine,” Nikita said. “I’m done questioning the witness.”

After discrediting Catherine, it was time for the jury to deliberate as to Abel’s guilt. While they waited, Spencer, Y/N and Ilaria played catch outside of the courthouse. Ilaria was running around like the little girl she was, and Y/N was watching as Spencer’s eyes alight with joy, his smile wide and bright as Ilaria screeched with happiness and ran after the ball.

It took the jury less than two hours to come to a decision.

Y/N felt the nerves roll back; although the quick turn around time seemed to indicate an easy decision, and all of the witness seemed to lean in favor of the prosecution, there was always a small chance that things wouldn’t go her way.

“Madam Foreman of the Jury, you’ve come to a decision.”

“We have, Your Honor.” The judge nodded for the decision to be handed to the clerk, who handed it to the judge before giving it back to the foreperson to be read. “In the case of Abel Mitchell, we the jury find him guilty.”


	15. Chapter 15

The entire courtroom filled with the thunderous sound of applause from the prosecution’s side. 

Immediately, the members of the team, those people allowed to observe the trial, and Nikita and her assistant counsel delved into conversation. Nikita’s mega-watt smile spread across her face, no doubt thankful to not only have won the case for Y/N, but to have added to her near spotless track record.

While the rest of those in the courtroom were thankful for a conviction on behalf of their victimized loved ones, a casual bystander disgusted by the heinous acts Abel had committed, or a keeper of law and order, Y/N sat amongst them, her hand linked in Spencer’s, staring blankly ahead without adequate words. “It’s over,” she heard Spencer whisper, his voice somehow loud amongst the din of the crowd. “Unless you want to go to the sentencing, you never have to see or hear from him again.”

When Y/N looked at her watch, she couldn’t believe only 60 seconds had passed since her world had changed forever. It felt simultaneously like no time had passed, and like years had gone by. “Oh my god,” she breathed. Her body began to shake and the tears welled up behind her eyelids, threatening to rain down her cheeks yet again; she’d cried enough for a thousand lifetimes, but these past 24 hours or so had proved to her that her tears wouldn’t forever be linked to loneliness, despair and fear. Now, they held gratitude, and more importantly, hope for her and Ilaria’s future. “Oh my god, it’s over.” Slapping her hand against her mouth, the tears poured freely as she lurched forward and buried her head in her lap. “It’s over, it’s over…it’s over.”

Spencer hated seeing her cry; every time she’d cried in these past few months he’d had to beat his heart back into his chest because it yearned to break free and share itself with her so she wouldn’t be alone, but she needed this right now. She deserved this release. 

After the instantaneous reaction from JJ, Emily, Rossi, Hotch, Derek and Penelope, they all turned to see Spencer with his hand rubbing Y/N’s back as she rocked back and forth. JJ went to speak to her but Spencer silently asked her to stand back; Y/N needed to cry this out.

It was nearly ten minutes before she lifted her head from her lap and wiped the tears from her eyes. “It’s over,” JJ whispered. She leaned down to wipe a tear from Y/N’s cheek and smile. “You can focus on moving on now.”

Looking around the courtroom, Y/N inhaled deep, her gaze coming to rest on Abel as he was walked out of the room in cuffs and chains. He turned to face her and his smirk disappeared. “Never again,” she whispered. Once he left, she turned to face Spencer. While the verdict was being read, Ilaria was being watched by a guardian ad litem. “Let’s go get our daughter.”

\----

Three days later, Y/N and Spencer decided to forgo attending Abel’s sentencing. Instead, the rest of the BAU went in their stead, overjoyed to let them both know that Abel had been sentenced to a life sentence plus 30 years; he was never going to be leaving prison again. 

Although Abel was no longer a physical threat in their lives, there was still so much more work to be done. Now it was time for Spencer to get to know his daughter, and for Y/N and Spencer to get to know each other again. 

“Are we going to see Daddy today?” Ilaria asked, her light brown curls bouncing and reflecting the sun’s bright gaze. For the first time, her eyes lit up at the thought of her Daddy. Y/N was afraid that it was going to take a while for herself and Spencer to get back to where they used to be, despite the fact that the majority of her memories had returned to her, but at least Ilaria and Spencer’s relationship could blossom not that they were both out from under the thumb of the most despicable man she’d ever encountered.

With a little bit of money in her pocket, courtesy of Spencer, Y/N and Ilaria boarded the bus toward Spencer’s apartment. “Yes, we are sweetie. Daddy wants to take you to the park.”

“Can we go on the swings?”

Abel had never let her go on the playground; he claimed he was afraid she’d get hurt, but now Y/N could see it was just another way to keep the two of them under his control. “Definitely. I’m sure Daddy would love that.”

“Daddy!” Ilaria’s ran into Spencer’s apartment; he’d unlocked the door before they arrived. Y/N’s eyes began to well up when her child’s father – her real father – bent down to pick her up off the floor. He held her so close - like his life depended on it. It was a sight she had never imagined seeing and yet her it was. 

“Y/N?” He asked. “Are you okay?”

As she stepped into the apartment and closed the door, she nodded. “Happy tears mommy?”

“Yea, baby,” she replied. “I’m just really happy you have the nicest daddy in the world.”

Spencer’s eyes softened as she approached, his fingers gently brushing up against hers. “Ready to go to the park?”

Ilaria bounced up and down in her father’s arms. “Can we go on the swings? I was never allowed to go on the swings.” As her face drew down into a frown for a moment, Y/N chided herself for being duped by Abel, even though Dr. Wasser told her that it wasn’t her fault; when it came to her baby, she was so angry that she’d been denied three years of a true childhood because of him. 

“We can absolutely go on the swings. And I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.” Seeing Spencer so happy at being a father made Y/N’s heart ache in the best way possible. He’d texted the night before to ask if Ilaria had any food allergies he needed to know about because he wanted to make lunch for everyone.

The park was just down the street from his apartment, so the three of them walked two blocks away – Y/N and Spencer each holding one of Ilaria’s hands. “One, two, three!” Spencer said. The two parents lifted their daughter up in the air, swinging her back and forth as she laughed. 

Once the swings were in sight, Ilaria bolted toward them, screaming for Spencer to push her; for an hour, she barely got off the swing, only budging when the glowing father asked her if she wanted to eat. “You make good peanut butter and jellies, Daddy,” Ilaria laughed, peanut butter sticking to her lips and jelly dripping down onto her shirt. She was such a mess – and such a child. Y/N couldn’t have been happier. 

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered. Through bites of his own food, he kissed the top of her head. She’d been snuggled up to him the entire time. 

After finishing a sandwich and a box of apple juice, Ilaria ran back over the swings. “Push me, Daddy!” Her big, toothy grin made him smile. 

“I’ll be right there!”

Y/N happily sat back, wanting to watch the spectacle rather then be included; somehow, right now, it felt more immersive this way. “You’re great with her,” she said softly. 

“I’m not going to lie, I’m nervous I’ll mess something up, but I the moment I saw her, I knew whether she was mine or not that I’d love her forever.” Y/N hadn’t initiated contact with Spencer for the most part, but she placed her hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze before he got up to play more with Ilaria. 

Nearly two hours went by with Spencer and Ilaria bouncing between the swings, the slide and running around in the grass. “Mommy! Come play!” It was the most perfect day she could’ve ever imagined. 

Four hours after they first arrived at the park, Ilaria fell asleep against Y/N’s leg. Spencer picked her up and cradled her head against his shoulder on the way back to his place. “I’ll drive you back,” he said. “I don’t want you to have to take the bus if you don’t have to.”

The two estranged lovers spoke softly as Ilaria slept in the back seat. Thankfully, the traffic wasn’t heavy, so they coasted through the streets, taking the long way around as Spencer regaled Y/N with stories of how he felt when they were first dating. “I’d never wanted anyone more. Trying to work up the courage to ask you out was nearly impossible. I wondered whether or not I should buy you flowers, and then I didn’t because I didn’t want to buy you ones you didn’t like, then I thought maybe I should bring chocolates, but figured that might be cheesy, and finally I just decided to show up, stumble over my words and hope you liked me enough for a second date.”

“I did,” she replied. “And do you remember my favorite flower?”

“Tiger lilies,” he smiled.

As he turned the corner to her apartment, she zoned out for a moment and then blurted out. “Spencer, I just want you to know that I want this to work, but I’m afraid. Not of you,” she added quickly, “Just…afraid…”

“It’s okay,” he replied.

When he stopped the car, he picked Ilaria up after opening the door for her. “I suspect we’ll come across some obstacles, but you’re here. I still love you just as much as the day we met. I love our daughter, and I swear I will take this relationship and the rebuilding of it as slowly as you need. All I want is a chance at happiness for us again.”

“Okay,” she said, letting go of a held breath. “Thank you.”

With everything out in the open on both sides, they headed upstairs in silence and placed Ilaria in bed. Spencer pulled the comforter over the girl’s sleeping frame and then mother and father left her to sleep. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said when they got to the door.

“Night, Spence,” she replied. “I remember calling you that.” 

“You did.” All of a sudden, he started to blush, shuffling his feet and looking at the floor. “Can I give you a kiss goodnight?”

When she nodded, Spencer’s smile could’ve outshined the Las Vegas Strip or Times Square at night. Closing the space between them, he pressed his lips to her forehead, then her nose, and finally to her lips, just barely grazing them with his own before wrapping his arms around her; his left hand cradled the small of her back, while the right had ventured up behind her, coming to rest on her neck.

In the comfort of his chest, she reveled in the feel of his arms encompassing her, when all of a sudden she became petrified. 

“I will break you Rebekah,” he said softly, his hand wrapped around her neck and squeezing ever tighter. It kept happening. He kept doing it. Each time he let go, she’d barely catch her breath he returned to his calculated torture. “And once I do, I’ll be a part of you forever.”

“Ahhhhhhhh! Get away!”

With all of her might, she pushed against the body in front of her, sending him back into door, his face frozen in shock and sadness while she began to sob.


	16. Chapter 16

No words were spoken between them that night. All she could do was cry – Abel was in prison, he was never leaving again, and yet he was still plaguing her life in ways she’d anticipated but truly wasn’t ready for.

After the well of tears had left her, Spencer took a deep breath and left the apartment, whispering a barely audible ‘you’ll be okay’ before closing the door behind him. 

The next few days were panic inducing. Every piece of evidence told Y/N that Spencer was a good man, the best man, and one that she was lucky enough to have married, and because of that, she didn’t want to keep Ilaria away from him. “Mommy? Am I going to see Daddy today?”

“Yea, baby. Miss Penelope and Daddy are going to take you to the park today,” she said, her body trembling with barely restrained emotion. She didn’t want Ilaria to ask why she wasn’t going to the park, but she could feel it coming. How was she supposed to tell her baby girl that Abel and her Daddy were mixing in her mother’s mind and she couldn’t see Daddy right now? How could she do that without scaring her and making her think her Daddy was bad? After everything, Ilaria deserved a father – one that loved her unconditionally – and that was without a doubt Spencer.

Just as she thought, Ilaria voiced her sadness and disappointment. “You’re not coming, Mommy?” 

Y/N shook her head.

“Why not?”

Swallowing hard, she bent down to meet her daughter’s eyes. “It’s complicated, sweetheart.”

“Daddy’s not bad, is he?”

“No!” She said quickly. “Daddy’s not bad at all. Daddy is a good man.”

“Then why can’t you come to the park with me and Daddy and Miss Penelope?” 

Ilaria was smart for her age, but the innocence was so apparent, her eyes wide with concern and curiosity. “You know that Abel did some bad things to Mommy, right?” The little girl nodded, her lip quivering even though she had no idea the horrors her mother had gone through. “Well, there are thoughts in my head that come back and hurt me when Daddy touches me. Even though I know Daddy is good, my brain connects Daddy with those bad things that Abel did, and I need time to heal my brain before I can spend a lot of time with Daddy.”

Although she didn’t seem to fully grasp everything (which was completely understandable considering Y/N didn’t really get it either), Ilaria nodded. “But I can still see Daddy while you fix your brain?”

“Yea,” she chuckled. “I want you to get to know Daddy, and after I’m better, I will too.”

With that, Ilaria seemed to be satisfied and went to grab her stuffed animal before Penelope came to pick her up. “Hey Penelope,” she said, her eyes heavy as she opened the door. “Thanks again…How is Spencer?”

“He’s hurting,” she said honestly. “But it’s the situation. He just wants you to be okay.” Maybe it was his IQ, maybe it was because of his undying love for his wife, but Y/N found herself smiling as Ilaria pushed passed her leg to say hi to Penelope. It would be human nature to be upset about what had happened the other night, but he was stepping back and letting her breath. “Your pace,” she said, giving her a side hug. “That’s what he wanted me to tell you. We’ll take this at your pace.”

A tear sprung to the corner of her eye, but she quickly wiped it away before Ilaria could see. She wanted her to have a good time today. “Tell him thank you. And you, missy,” she said, bending down to kiss Ilaria on the cheek, “have a good time with Daddy and Miss Penelope.”

“Okay, Mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Once Ilaria was out of sight, Y/N allowed some silent tears to leave her before picking up the phone. “Dr. Wasser?”

“Hello, Y/N. How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better.” Over the course of the next hour, Y/N proceeded to tell her about what happened between her and Spencer, and unravel all of her emotions; she was scared, she was angry, she was apprehensive, she was overjoyed – there was too much going on for her to fully process any one emotion, and that was all she wanted to do. Dr. Wasser suggested taking her relationship with Spencer by the smallest baby steps, starting with what she was doing and letting Ilaria get to know him.

It was frustrating to have this happen so slowly, but considering it had taken Abel three years to get her to where she was now, getting back to where she’d been wasn’t going to happen overnight. “After that, I would suggest starting with daily communications via text or phone. Maybe then, you can try outings with Ilaria, then outings by yourself outside of your apartment, then invite him to the apartment and so on until you can truly feel comfortable with him again. I don’t know Spencer that well, but he seems like a patient man.”

Y/N smirked, fiddling her fingers in her pocket. “Yea he is. His friend, Penelope, just came to pick Ilaria up because they’re going to take her to the park, and his message to me through her was ‘your pace.’”

“See?” She said, her upward inflection turning their relationships from less patient/doctor to friends. “There’s no pressure from him, and your daughter is bright, she gets it. So stop putting the pressure on yourself and allow your mind to heal in it’s own time.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me even though we didn’t have an appointment scheduled.” Y/N had been more than unlucky, downright browbeaten and demoralized, but she did have people on her side.

“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’d like to keep in touch, and if I could suggest an actual therapist to you, I think it could be beneficial.” 

Y/N chuckled, feeling a little more hopeful after vomiting out everything she’d truly been feeling to an unbiased third party. “I’d say so.”

Despite the overwhelming desire to be better instantly, it just wasn’t going to happen that way. She didn’t want to lose Spencer, not as the father of her child, that she knew would never wane, but as her husband – she’d remembered their time together and she wanted to get that back, but she was going to have to make peace with the fact that it might be months or years before they got back to where they used to be. 

—

The ensuing months were long and arduous, many times taking leaps forward only to be pushed back.

Y/N went to therapy every week, started paying some of her own bills through a newly obtained job at an all-female non-profit for victims of sexual assault. Not only did it allow her to pay some of her bills (other than rent, which Rossi still insisted on paying for), but it also allowed her to feel like she was doing something for someone else; through her pain, she could comfort others, and while it was definitely a grueling place to be, it was also exactly where she felt she needed to be.

Six months had passed since Spencer’s touch had brought her back to one of the worst nights of her life, and true to his word, he let things happen at a pace that was comfortable for Y/N. Nearly half of the past six months had been texting and talking, which they did almost every day, including video chats with their daughter, and after having a minor panic attack about whether or not she was ready for it, they started going out together as a family. 

When they weren’t together (which was more often than Spencer would’ve liked due to the job more than anything else), he’d send her bouquets of lilies, her favorites, as well as books he liked to read to her, leading to him reading them over the phone as she fell asleep, and even a couple of scrapbooks that he and the team had put together, stitching only the best memories together amongst colorful paper and glittery stickers (courtesy of Penelope, of course).

After six months, she felt comfortable enough to go out alone with Spencer. Before the incident she wanted to forget, she’d only gone out once with him, and that had been with their daughter to the park. 

Tonight was going to be a date.

Her husband was taking her to their favorite Italian restaurant. As she stood in front of the mirror, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress - a beautiful red velvet paired with black tights and matching black heels. It was the first time she’d felt pretty since coming home, and according to Spencer he wanted her to act like it was their first date, so dressing up felt natural.

Ilaria was spending the night with Emily and Penelope; they were going to have a girls’ night watching Disney movies with their new niece and undoubtedly feeding her way too much sugar, but Ilaria was excited for herself and her parents.

The knock on the door made Y/N shiver with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. “Coming!”

“I’m a little nervous,” he said from outside the apartment.

“You too?”

Spencer cleared his throat before replying. “Yea, I really want to make a good impression.” 

Still nervous, but more excited than anything, she opened the door to see her husband blushing, a fresh bouquet of red tulips held in front of his mega-watt, cheesy smile.


	17. Chapter 17

“Tulips?”

“I know they aren’t your favorite. Those are tiger lilies, but red tulips signify true love and I wanted you to know that I’m in this for the long haul.”

Smiling, Y/N turned to place the tulips in a simple white vase, inhaling the heady scent. She didn’t remember ever getting tulips before, but something about the floral perfume transported her to another time and place. “Have you bought me tulips before?” She asked sweetly.

“Yea, I brought them to our second date because I knew by the end of the first that we were going to be together forever.” Spencer’s expression was hopeful but heavy, the wrinkles around his eyes betraying what they’d been through in less than five years of marriage. 

But it had been months since the trial. Even before the trial, she felt like she was on the mend. And now, even more so. Everything had been taken slowly, and she’d been calling the shots. “We went bowling on our second date, didn’t we?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded. Every time Y/N remembered a bit of their history, it gave him more hope that she was coming back to him. As a scientist and a psych expert, he knew she’d never truly be the same, but he didn’t want her to be; he wanted her to grow from this, become stronger than she ever thought possible and do what made her happy in life. At this point, Spencer felt that that included him. “I was absolutely pitiful. Scored less than 100 each time.”

“I wasn’t much better though if I remember correctly,” she chuckled.

Spencer laughed and reached out his hand, praying she would be okay with his touch. Hesitantly, she entangled her hand in his, and after a deep breath, she smiled. “Ready to go?”

Neither one of them was really hungry just yet so instead, Spencer opted for driving around as Y/N allowed the breeze to waft through her hair. “Hey Spence?”

“Yea?” He loved it when she called him Spence – even more so than before. Before she was taken, it was a cute name, now it was yet another symbol of hope. “You okay?”

Stretching her hands the ceiling of the car, she spoke out the window. “Yea, I’m really good. Can you tell me what you pictured for us? Into the future? Before everything happened?”

As he turned the car around to head to the restaurant, he smiled. “Well, I figured we would have three kids. Two girls and a boy. Ilaria was one of the girls, and you insisted that the boy be Spencer Jr.”

“That still stands.”

“After the three children, I would continue to work for the Bureau for a few years, but eventually, I would consult on the side and teach a couple of college classes. That way I could be home more with you and the kids. You would be working at the firm. Do you…do you remember what you used to do?”

“Architect…although I honestly couldn’t imagine doing that now. I think I might have to change my path when it comes to that.”

Spencer more than understood that. She loved what she did, but her work was exceedingly stressful. Deadlines were always around the corner. After everything she’d been through, she found herself more at home and feeling useful at the non-profit with which she was working.

“I also pictured us moving slightly out of town into a house. Not a big one, but one with enough room for the five of us. We’d have a porch too. You and I would sit out there all the time and I’d read to you, while you sipped on some ice tea.”

That was a perfect picture. “Anything else?” They’d pulled up to the restaurant. Spencer stepped out of the car and opened the door for her, holding out his hand for her to take if she wanted. When she did, it warmed his heart again. He was so thankful that she was on the mend. A few more setbacks were inevitable, but she wanted him and he wanted her.

“Yea, I imagined us sitting in those chairs until we were old and gray. When we were younger we’d sit further apart, just enjoying the cool air and maybe reading, but when we were older, we’d have to huddle up for warmth. I’d be wearing a super old man sweater-“

“Probably not much different than now,” she giggled, her dimples melting him from the inside out.

Spencer looked down at his sweater vest and internally chided himself for being an 80-year-old man in a 30-something’s body. “True. Also you would be huddled up in a blanket and we’d be looking through photo albums, some on the phone and some right in your hands because we’re old school like that, marveling at the lives we’ve had and the family we created.”

Patrons entering the restaurant had been passing for quite a while as Spencer recounted their perceived future. “That sounds beautiful,” she cried. “There may need to be a few tweaks to that future, but can we still have that?”

Spencer’s lip quivered as he nodded and proceeded to lead her into the restaurant. “Absolutely.”

Their dinner mirrored that of their first date. She order Chicken Florentine – exactly what she’d ordered years earlier, and Spencer did the same. It was like they were transported back to that time and place, just a little older and a little wiser. Spencer even reenacted some of what he’d said back then, stuttering over cheesy puns and watching Y/N’s cheeks light up.

Before leaving, Spencer paid the bill, promising that Y/N could pitch in for her half next time. “Do you remember where we went after dinner on our first date?”

“We went to the park down the street – the one with the little pond, the benches, the trees.” Her eyes watered as she remembered how perfect it had been and how lucky she was to be able to go there again.

Spencer leaned his head against hers and squeezed her hands tightly. “Yea, I’d like to take you there now.”

They walked down the block hand-in-hand. Strangers passed by seemingly baffled by the two kids in love, because they weren’t kids anymore. Spencer walked her into the park and sat down on the bench near the pond. For nearly 30 minutes, they sat in silence; Y/N curled up into him, her hands wrapped around one of his, but when she glanced upward, she saw a tear in Spencer’s eye. “You okay?” She asked.

“More than okay,” he said, attempting to blink back a tear and failing. Sitting up, he brought his hand to the side of her face, tracing her cheek with his thumb. “Can I?”

She was nervous, not wanting to repeat what happened the last time they got close. “Yea.”

Leaning in, Spencer brushed his lips up against hers. She shivered, but leaned in closer and closed her eyes. As their lips met again, more insistently this time, the tears streamed down his cheeks. This was it. After all this time, they were finally on the mend together. She cried against him and he kissed the tears away. “Your pace. Forever. Okay?”

“Together.”

They’d both been through so much, and there were more hurdles still to come, but as long as they had each other, Y/N truly believed that future Spencer spoke of could be realized. It would be a little different than before, but they would be together. They would have their daughter. And that man, the man she’d no longer give a name because it gave him too much power, would cease to exist. Her life was forever altered because of him, but it wouldn’t change the core of who she was - it wouldn’t change her.

“Forever.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Ilaria! It’s time for school!” Spencer called, laughing when the now 8-year-old bolted out of her room dressed in a pair of jeans with embroidered white flowers going up the side of the leg and a Wonder Woman t-shirt – matching Wonder Woman backpack already filled to the brim with books and notebooks, papers and pencils. “So,” he laughed, “I’d say you’re ready for school?”

Eagerly, she nodded and bounded into the kitchen where Y/N stood making an omelet for herself. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m good, Mommy. How’s the baby?” She pressed a kiss to her mother’s protruding stomach. There were only a few months left until they met the new addition. “I’m a little nervous about going into fifth grade when I’m not old enough, but I can’t wait to learn new things.”

Y/N rubbed her stomach, feeling the baby kick. “You’re going to do great! You have your daddy’s brain. Wanna feel your little brother or sister kick?”

Ilaria grabbed her mother’s stomach and pressed her ear to see if she could hear the baby. “Hi, baby! I can’t wait to meet you! Are you feeling okay today, Mommy?”

Nearly five years after the trial against the man she refused to name gave her and her daughter the freedom they both deserved, Y/N still struggled. It wasn’t every day or even every week, but she definitely struggled; she imagined she always would to an extent - especially with her pregnancy. She was stuck in the hell of that cold, dark room when she was pregnant with Ilaria, so being pregnant again brought some painful memories back. “I’m great today, sweetheart.” The other day she’d broken down, remembering how he had threatened to hurt “their” unborn child if she didn’t comply, but Spencer was there through it all. “Time to wait for the bus!”

Sitting by the window, all three of them started talking about what names they might like for the baby. Ilaria liked the name Diana for a girl, not only for her paternal grandmother, but for Diana Prince as well. Spencer enjoyed the name Blake for a boy or a girl; the idea of paying tribute to another important person in his life making him smile. Y/N on the other hand wanted Spencer for a boy, after the man who’d been through hell and back with her. If it was a girl, she was with Ilaria in that she loved the name Diana. “Oh my god, the bus is here!” Ilaria exclaimed. “I’m nervous.”

“You’re gonna be great,” Spencer said, beaming with pride at their beautiful little girl. “Just breathe and you’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” she replied. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a squeeze before turning toward her mother and kissing her stomach one more time. “Bye, Mommy! Bye baby!”

As she ran toward the bus, Y/N leaned into Spencer’s should and linked their hands together. “She’s so big already,” she whispered.

Spencer smiled solemnly. He’d missed out on the first three years of her life, but he was making up for it now, helping her with homework every night and spending days just the two of them. “Yea, she is.” He turned to press a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “And now there’s another one!” Spencer smiled and kissed her belly too while saying hi to the baby. 

After deciding to mend the marriage that had been torn apart, the true difficulties really began. Living together, learning each other’s touch, co-parenting – it was all very difficult, especially for someone who’d been through what she’d been through. But they fought.

Then came the thing that scared her the most. She’d been violated in the worst of ways by the worst of men. But that man no longer existed in her world, and she’d wanted to be with her husband again. The first time after everything that happened, which was nearly 3 years after the trial, was one of nervous anticipation. At first, she’d been so afraid that when he touched her in that way, she’d be fearful and push him away, but Spencer took things so painstakingly slowly, asking constantly whether or not she was okay, that it had been everything she wanted.

Each subsequent coming together became easier and easier, with the occasional setback, during which time Spencer would cradle her in his arms and rock her to sleep.

Things would take time. And both Spencer and Y/N expected setbacks through the course of their lives, but they were here – alive – and happy. They’d already decided that after this baby was born, they weren’t going to have any more. It felt like the new addition was made their family complete. “I can’t wait to meet this little one,” he said softly as his hands wandered over her stomach. “If it’s a girl, I also like the name Isa. Isa and Ilaria.”

“What’s Isa mean?”

“Strength,” Spencer smiled, filled with pride for the woman who was carrying his second child.

All of a sudden, the baby started kicking. “Maybe it is a girl,” she laughed. “I’ve been thinking it was a boy. But I like that name - Isa Diana Reid.”

Considering the past few days had been a bit difficult, she was still a little tired, emotionally drained from fighting against the demons that madman had left behind. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked. “Or were you just saying that for Ilaria so she wouldn’t be even more nervous about going to school?”

She chuckled; that is something she would normally do, but she really was okay for the most part. “Yea, I’m good, Spence. A little emotionally drained from the past couple days. Occasionally, I have a few moments of self-pity wondering whether or not he’ll invade the good in my life again, but I have you, I have her, I have my health. With all of that put together, I think I’ll be okay. More than okay.”

They sat on the couch and she leaned into his shoulder, nearly falling asleep from exhaustion. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, as his thumb painted circles on the side of her stomach. 

“Hm?” She glanced up through half-lidded eyes. “Why?”

“Even now, I’m sure none of this has been easy - the pregnancy especially. I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you.” She smiled and lifted her hand to rest on his chest, steadying her breathing in time with the rising and falling of his own.

Life wasn’t easy, and he never expected it to be, but there are so many others who might not have been able to live through what she’d gone through and come out the other side, not only alive, but stronger too. Through hard work and consistent therapy, she’d unlocked the memories holding her back and worked through them.

His heart swelled as she slept on his shoulder. Their daughter was off at school; occasionally, she would nightmares of her own, but for the most part she was a happy little girl with a passion for learning. And their new baby was kicking away, ready in mere months to make their debut into the world.

There was a time when he was positive he’d never see his wife alive again, and now she was here – and they were a family.

He would never take it for granted.


	19. Epilogue 2

Setbacks.

They were inevitable.

But the hollowness she felt in her heart when they happened was just as real as the days when that man had invaded every fiber of her being. She hated him. She hated him more than anything. How dare he steal joy from her at such an amazing time in her life? What kind of mother was she when she couldn’t even take care of her son?

“Spence,” Y/N whispered harshly as she rocked her husband awake. “Spence, please wake up!” Her eyes were watery. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably and little Blake Spencer Reid was screaming his head off. “Spence.” She fell to the floor in a heap of tears as he woke up and slipped down beside her. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He whispered. She’d been so good for so long. “Is Blake okay?” 

As she glanced toward the nursery, she nodded. He just needed to be fed. But that cry…

“He’s hungry. But he started crying and it sounded like Illaria…back then…” Her breathing sped up as she continued to sob. “I could feel his hands on me. It was barely two seconds, but I could feel him. I could hear him. It’s like it was yesterday. Spence, I can’t even take care of my own baby!” 

Clutching her chest, Y/N let out the most heart-wrenching sob, the sound reverberating through the bedroom and down the hallway. “Oh god. Spence. I-I-I-”

“Listen to me,” Spencer instructed, his voice firm and soft. “Listen to my voice. You aren’t there anymore. You’re with me. Illaria is sleeping soundly down the hallway and Blake is okay. I know you feel like he’s right here with you, but he’s not and he never will be again.” 

Reaching over, Spencer grabbed a stress ball and placed it in her hand before kissing her forehead. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m going to go take care of Blake.”

She saw his feet speed out of the bedroom and toward the nursery, her knuckles nearly white as she squeezed the ball to near bursting. Her vision blurred through tears. Spencer. Illaria. Blake. Rossi. Penelope. JJ. Emily. Hotch. Morgan. Spencer. Illaria. Blake. Rossi. Penelope. JJ. Emily. Hotch. Morgan.

Over and over again, she repeated the names, envisioning the people in her mind that kept her grounded. “Mommy?” 

When she looked up, she saw Illaria and quickly wiped away her tears. 

“Are you remembering the bad man, Mommy?” She asked softly, coming to sit at her side with her stuffed unicorn, courtesy of Aunt Penelope, held tightly in her grasp. 

“Yes, sweetie. The way your baby brother started crying reminded me of him. I’m sorry I woke you.” She could barely look at her little girl. Why couldn’t this be over? 

Illaria passed her unicorn over. “It’s going to be okay, Mommy. I promise. Daddy loves you. And I love you. And little Blake loves you too. The bad guy can’t hurt you anymore.”

When her daughter rested her head against her chest, her breathing steadied out. The cacophony of sound that had taken over her mind finally began to dissipate. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her she was a horrible mother. The deep, dark voice of the past fading away. Her own heartbeat thumping in her ear. It was going away. Blake had stopped crying. 

With her head between her knees, she held Illaria’s hand and took deep breaths. “Mommy? Daddy is here with Blake. He’s okay now.”

Y/N glanced up, tears dried on her cheeks to see Blake cradled in Spencer’s arms. “You were right. He just needed to be fed.”

She looked over and saw Blake suckling away at the bottle of milk, content as could be - no awareness of what his mother had just been through. He was so beautiful, just like his big sister. She hated that man for taking any ounce of joy from her when she was supposed to be marveling at the life she and Spencer had created, but she refused to let it continue. Not tonight at least. “Can I?”

Spencer handed Blake over, a tired smile crawling across his lips as he scooted next to her and pulled Illaria into his lap. “Look at his little fingers,” Spencer said, smiling as Illaria counted them off.

“He has tiny feet,” she giggled. 

“You had tiny feet like that once,” Y/N replied. 

The bottle of milk disappeared little by little while the four of them spoke about what they wanted to do with Blake the next day. “Can we watch a movie?” Illaria asked. “I know he can’t really understand anything yet, but I want to watch Moana.”

“I think he’d like that,” Spencer said, kissing the top of Illaria’s head. 

Illaria wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands trying to stave off sleep, but it wasn’t working. “Blake’s asleep now, Mommy.” She’d barely noticed, she was so tired. “Maybe you can put him in the bassinet? And I can sleep here? I want to make sure you’re okay,” she yawned.

Through heavy eyes, Spencer took Blake and wiped his mouth of the excess milk, kissing his nose before placing him in the bassinet on his side of the bed. “Come here, Princess Illaria,” he mumbled. “Your throne awaits.”

Giggling, she crawled underneath the covers and in between her mother and father. 

“You okay, honey?” Spencer asked as his hand rested on her hip. 

She nodded. “I’m better. I’m sorry I woke everyone up.”

“It’s okay, Mommy.” 

“Ditto,” Spencer said with a smile. 

As the baby slept silently beside them, Y/N held tightly onto Illaria’s little unicorn, the soft scent of her daughter’s shampoo making her tired. With a baby in the house, sleep was hard to come by, so Spencer and Illaria fell asleep fairly quickly, leaving Y/N to her own thoughts. The bad thoughts so badly wanted to make their way back into her brain, but again, she repeated the names of the people she loved more than life itself. 

Spencer.

He’d been there through it all.

Illaria.

The joyful little girl who’d been through more in less than a decade than most did in their lives.

Blake.

The sign of another new beginning. Hope for her family’s future.


	20. Epilogue 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I keep getting requests for follow-ups to this so here's one more :D

Not now.

Not today.

This was supposed to be the start of another new beginning for them. “No, please,” she whispered to herself as her arms came around to soothe her goosebump-prickled skin. Her breaths became shallow as his voice began to flood her mind again.

My beautiful, Rebekah.

“No,” Y/N said aloud.

JJ glanced over, instantly aware of what was happening. “Y/N?”

“He’s in my head, JJ. Why today? Why now?” As she glanced up at the cross on the wall, she realized that was it. It was decorated in much the same way as the one that he wore around his neck. When she lifted her head to meet JJ’s gaze, a few tears fell. Nearby, Emily and Penelope caught sight of what was happening and approached her. 

Emily leaned her head against Y/N’s forehead and sighed. “He is not here anymore. He never will be. Ever again.” It was so unfair. Her eyes shouldn’t have been stained by tears while the soft, pale blue dress clung to her body - a body that had since bore another child. She had Spencer, Illaria and Blake now. She’d come so far. Why did this have to happen now?

“I hate PTSD,” Y/N replied, softly chuckling under her breath as her skin began to crawl again. “I know Spence isn’t supposed to see me before I walk down the aisle, but…”

“You need him,” Penelope finished. “I’ll go and get him. You just breathe deep and look beautiful. You’ve got the latter covered.” Turning on her heels, she hurried out of the room and down the hallway to find Spencer, who was sitting with Morgan, Hotch, Rossi, Illaria and little Blake. He was only a year old, but he was a very well-behaved baby, squirming happily in his big sister’s lap. “Hey, Boy Wonder. Your love is…having a bad time,” she said through clenched teeth, attempting to hide her mother’s breakdown from their daughter. 

“Mommy’s having a flashback?” She asked.

Penelope sighed and then nodded. “Yes. She just asked for your Dad.”

Spencer stood up and kissed both of his babies’ heads before assuring Illaria that her mother would be just fine. As he entered the room, Emily, JJ and Penelope left to meet up with the rest of the team and the kids. “Hey, honey.”

“Spence, why today?” She wailed into his chest. “This isn’t fair.” Six years after the fact, she wanted to be over this. They were supposed to be renewing their vows today. Spencer’s idea of course. “I just want to be okay.”

“You are,” he said confidently. “Don’t ever doubt your strength. Every time he pops back into your mind, you push him out and you can do it again.” He grabbed her face softly between his hands and wiped the tears away with the pads of his thumbs before placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’m here. We’re renewing our vows. We have two beautiful babies. Blake is squirming like the happy little man he is right in his sister’s lap. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

The two of them swayed gently back and forth in each other’s embrace while Y/N’s breathing steadied out. “He’s gone,” she whispered, as both an assurance to herself and a sign to Spencer that the bastard’s voice was no longer taunting her mind. “He’s gone. It’s just us.”

“That’s right,” he replied proudly, his fingers wrapped tightly around her own which were resting on his chest. “You ready to marry me again?”

She tilted her head up and kissed him, her eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of warmth and security he provided her. “More than ever.”

——

In all likelihood, she’d be fighting his memories for the rest of her life in one way or another, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him take away anymore happiness than he already had. 

The tears had finally subsided, their remnants chilling against the gentle breeze of Rossi’s backyard before returning, this time for a different and much happier reason. Spencer smiled through tears as she made her way toward him, her dress drifting delicately behind her while Illaria and Blake stood at her side. This was a family affair. “Hi,” Spencer said when his family joined him before the priest. Illaria and Blake gave them both kisses before going to sit by their Aunt Penelope’s side. Although Y/N wasn’t so sure she would be any help keeping on eye on the kids today considering she was already sobbing wildly. 

“We’re going to keep this short and sweet,” the priest said, smiling as he glanced between the two of them. “Together, you’ve been to hell and back, but here you are now, stronger than ever and re-committing to the love that brought you together in the first place. Would you like to start with your vows Y/N?”

Shakily, but feeling much better than she had earlier, she pulled the folded paper from the top of her dress. She inhaled the crisp fall air and marveled at the beauty around them before turning her attention to the paper. “In sickness and in health,” she started. “Who knew how much those words would be tested during the course of our still young marriage? After everything, I wouldn’t have blamed you for walking away. If anything constituted extenuating circumstances, what we went through was it. But you fought for me and you fought for us the moment you set your eyes on me again.” She could feel the tears start to rise again, her body shaking with the realization of just how lucky she was. “Your faith in us is what brought me back to you and I can never thank you enough for not giving up on me and our family. In return, I promise you that I will do the same. No matter what memories resurface, I will fight for our happiness and the happiness of the two beautiful babies we created. I promise that I’ll fight for you as equally as you have fought for me. You’re my strength.”

It was technically against the rules, to kiss the bride before the priest gave the okay, but Spencer couldn’t help himself, closing the space between them to kiss her. “I know you didn’t say kiss the bride, but I don’t care,” Spencer laughed, wiping a tear away with the back of his hand. 

That garnered a chuckle from everyone in the audience as well as the priest. “I’ll let it slide,” he responded. “Now, Spencer, would you like to say your vows.”

He took a deep breath and she chuckled. Of course, he had his memorized. He’d probably written and re-written them over and over again. “A little improvisation first,” he started. “When I said in sickness and in health, I meant those words. Not just when it was convenient for me. Particularly when it wasn’t easy for me. Now, back to what I planned,” he laughed, again eliciting soft chuckles from the audience. “I don’t know of anyone that has had to climb a higher mountain that we have over the course of the last decade, but together we’ve made it to the other side because we are strongest together. As a couple, as a family, when we place our faith in each other there is nothing we can’t do. God, I sound like a bad inspirational movie,” he said. “But it’s true. I promise I will continue to fight for us as I always have. I promise that no matter how bad things might seem that I will be there to show you the light. I promise that you will forever feel safe with me. You say I’m your strength, but you’re my hero.”

Spencer bit down on his lip when Y/N let out a sob. “My best friend, the mother of my children and my hero.”

The priest couldn’t control his own tears and quickly moved through the exchange of rings and some closing remarks, while everyone in the audience cried. No one had a dry eye, not even Hotch, who Penelope had banked on being the last to break. “Spencer, do you intend to continue committing yourself to this woman for better or for worse, in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he said proudly.

“Y/N, do you intend to continue committing yourself to this man for better or for worse, in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife once again and Spencer, you may now kiss the bride…again,” he laughed. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Spencer’s waist as he cradled her face in his hands and took her mouth in a heated and loving embrace that spoke all the words he’d had yet to say. “You, me, Illaria and Blake. Now and forever.”

“Now and forever.”


End file.
